L  I  L  I  T  H 

A  DRAMATIC   POEM 

BY 
GEORGE  STERLING 


SAN  FRANC  ISCO 

THE  BOOK  CLUB  OF  CALIFORNIA 
1920 


COPYRIGHT,    1920,  BY  GEORGE  STERLING 


TO  MY  DEAR  FRIEND 
BARBOUR   LATHROP 


483420 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS 


LILITH: 

TANCRED: 

URLAN: 

GAVAIN: 

LURION: 

GEOFFREY: 

AMARA: 

GERBERT: 

ARNULPH: 

FOULQUES: 

RAOUL: 

JEHANNE: 

BERTHE: 

LEAL: 


SPIRIT  OF  TEMPTATION 

PRINCE  OF  AETON 

KING  OF  AETON 

A  WANDERING  KNIGHT 

DUKE  OF  ESURON 

A  SHEPHERD 

DAUGHTER  OF  GEOFFREY 

KING  OF  VAE 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  JOEM 

CHANCELLOR  OF  VAE 

A  TROUBADOUR 

A  DANCING-GIRL 

A  SERVING-WOMAN 

AN  ARCHER 


Soldiers  and  Servitor  s>  a 
the  Boy  Ulfy  Knights  and  Ladies  ,  Odo  the  Foot, 
a  Cooky  Youths  &  Maidens 


LI  LI  TH 


L  I  L  I  T  H 
Adi 

Scene  i :  Sunset-time  in  the  courtyard  of  a 

mediaeval  castle.  Men-at-arms  wait  idly  here  and 

there.  One  of  them  holds  forth  a  cup  to  a 

serving-woman.  His  name  is 

Lealy  her  name y  Bert  he. 

LEAL:  Pour  me  again,  I  beg.  This  wine  is  good. 

B E  RTH  E :  That  time  you  gave  me  truth—  't  is  good  as  sleep 

For  a  poor  man.  As  for  this  tale  you  tell 

Of  having  fought  the  Soldan,  I  am  yet 

To  give  you  credence. 

LEAL:  Then,  I  close  the  tale, 

And  much  you  miss,  unwitting  how  his  blade 

Snapt  on  my  own.  Behold  you! 

Draws  his  sword.  See  the  notch 

Half-way  the  sword. 

B  E  RT  H  E  :  Pardon  my  unbelief! 

Now  know  I  that  you  bring  a  faithful  tale. 
Tell  further! 
LEAL:  Pour  again;  my  thirst  is  great, 

3 


:  ,Fof  Syria's  dust  yet  lingers  in  my  throat. .  . . 
Ad:  I  Sc.  i    'T  is  well.  Saint  Bacchus!  Wine  's  a  noble  thing! 
To  your  sweet  face,  dear  woman,  and  your  heart! 
Now,  when  the  Soldan  saw  his  broken  glaive, 
And  knew  the  fight  was  lost,  he  would  have  fled, 
But,  closing  with  him,  heavily  to  earth 
I  cast  him,  as  the  shout  our  army  raised 
Muffled  his  groans.  Thereat  — 
BERTHE:  Ah,  pardon  me! 

Forgiveness,  mighty  sire!  For  surely  you 
Are  Coeur  de  Lion! 

LEAL  —  /;/  chagrin:   No  more  tales  to  you, 
Pot-walloper!  I  waste  a  soldier's  breath 
On  one  who  serves! 

BERT  HE  —  mockingly:  Great  Richard,  tell  me  more! 
Have  you  the  Soldan's  ransom  at  your  belt? 
Why  do  you  wear  disguise?  The  honest  light 
Were  fit  companion  to  your  honesty. 
LEAL:  Go  braid  your  tongue,  O  slanderess! 
BERTHE:  Alas! 

That  Richard  travels  in  so  humble  garb! 
LEAL:  Enough!  Enough!  A  pity  one  so  fair 
Should  sit  as  hostess  to  so  surly  doubts! 
BERTHE:  Ah!  think  you  I  am  fair? 
LEAL:  No  fairer  maid 

Has  ever  poured  for  me  so  sound  a  wine! 
And  this  I  swear  by  what  I  show  you  now  — 
Behold!  A  portion  of  that  very  tree 
Up  which  the  blessed  Zaccheus  clomb  to  watch 
Our  Lord! 


BERTHE  —  crossing  her  self:  Saint  Willebrod!  How  LILITH 

came  you  by  Act  I  Sc.  i 

A  relic  of  such  worth? 
LEAL:  My  uncle  is 

Archbishop  of  Nemours,  and  gave  it  me 
Long  since,  upon  my  birthday. 
BERTHE:  Holy  twig! 

Methinks  't  is  not  unlike  our  northern  birch, 
And  't  was  a  sycamore,  a  friar  said, 
That  Zaccheus  clomb:  solve  me  the  riddle. 
LEAL:  Maid, 

In  Palestine  the  sycamore  is  like 
Our  birch.  Aye,  much  the  same,  and  yet  unlike! 
For  be  you  sure  the  wood  has  special  pow'rs, 
By  virtue  of  that  One  who  passed  it  near. 
BERTHE:  I  think  it  well  the  king  should  see  this  rood. 
LEAL:  Never!  For  kings  are  of  a  skeptic  blood. 
But  if  your  queen  would  see  — 
BERTHE:  Our  queen! 'T  is  sure 

You  reach  us  from  afar,  who  do  not  know 
Our  gentle  queen  is  dead  these  eighteen  years — 
Aye,  more. 

LEAL:          And  takes  the  king  no  second  bride  ? 
'T  is  strange! 

BERTHE:         It  is  not  strange  at  all  to  me, 
Remembering  the  queen.  Why,  do  you  think 
An  eagle,  once  bereaved,  would  wed  a  duck? 
LEAL:  You  put  it  flatly. 
BERTHE:  And  you  never  saw 

The  queen. 

5 


LILITH    LEAL:  I  have  seen  girls  in  heathendom 

Act  I  Sc.  i    Could  make  soft  end  of  such  fidelity. 

BERTHE:  You  lie!  And  now  I  think  you  never  saw 
The  Paynim. 

LEAL:  As  to  that,  you  may  be  sure 

Their  widows  are  best  judges.  Well  I  sense 
What  blood  is  in  your  lord.  I  know  the  kind  — 
Cold  as  a  church-bell  in  the  winter-time! 
Such  faith  wins  little  praise. 
BERTHE:  Again  you  lie! 

This  constancy  of  his  is  like  the  air, 
That's  ever  ready  when  a  soul  would  breathe. 
Our  king  is  loyal  as  the  flowers'  tryst 
With  Spring,  and  a  reproach  to  baser  lords 
That  wander  in  adulteries.  A  curse 
On  all  that  do  not  praise  his  fealty! 
And  may  she  go  alone  to  childless  Hell 
Who  would  allure  him! 
LEAL:  Maid,  I  do  not  say 

He  is  not  admirable. 
BERTHE:  Well  for  you! 

LEAL:  But  tell  me  more:  the  king  had  sons  of  her? 
BERTHE:  "One,  but  a  lion,"  as  the  fable  says. 
LEAL:  A  champion,  then. 

BERTHE:  He  has  not  seen  the  wars, 

But  in  the  tilt-yard  has  not  known  his  peer 
As  yet. 

LEAL:    They  're  late  in  blooding  him. 
BERTHE:  The  king 

Has  consolation  in  his  love,  and  fears 

6 


To  loose  him  on  the  battle  ere  the  need  LILITH 

Be  pressing.  More  as  brothers  do  they  seem  Act  I  Sc.  i 

Than  sire  and  son. 

LEAL:  I  never  thought  it  best 

The  young  pine  stand  too  close  the  parent  tree. 

'Tis  ill  for  each. 

BERTHE:  Now  say:  have  you  a  son? 

LEAL:  Have  you  a  tender  heart? 

BERTHE:  What  mean  you  ? 

LEAL:  Say 

If  you  Ve  a  tender  heart. 

BERTHE:  'T  is  flint.  But  what 

Of  that?  Suppose  I  had. 

LEAL:  Ah,  then,  I  thought 

You  'd  help  me  in  the  matter  of  a  son. 

BERTHE:  Away,  you  wretch!  See  how  we  women  fare 

Who  have  a  friendly  glance  for  wandering  swords! 

LEAL:  I  am  full  sick  of  wandering  as  I  look 

On  you. 

BERTHE:  Begone!  The  meat  is  in  the  hall! 

Hurry! 

LEAL:    And  you  will  see  me  afterward  ? 

BERTHE:  It  may  be.  Go  you  now!  They  eat.  Make  haste! 

A  troubadour  sings. 

LOVE  SONG 

Ah!  listen,  dear! 
The  burning  hands  of  Spring 
Are  on  the  world's  green  girdle.  Love  is  here, 
Long  waited.  So  I  sing. 
7 


LILITH  To  sing  thee  soon 

Act  I  Sc.  2  A  madder  song  than  this!  — 

Writ  in  the  waning  of  an  olden  moon 
To  win  the  first-born  kiss. 

Ah!  yearning  face, 
Too  mystically  fair! 

Sweet,  I  would  find  thee  in  a  hidden  place, 
And,  trembling,  loose  thy  hair! 

Darling,  the  year 
Sows  flowers  in  thy  heart! 
Love,  who  am  I  to  tell  thee  in  a  tear 
How  beautiful  thou  art? 


Scene  2:  A  garden-close  of  the  castle.  Urlan,  the 

king,  walks  with  his  son  Tancred,  a 

youth  of  twenty  years,  in  the 

last  of  twilight. 

URLAN:  Now  at  the  almond's  time  of  blossoming 
I  sorrow  for  thy  mother  — such  a  hue 
Enfolded  her,  and  slept  about  her  breasts, 
For  which  I  slew  my  brothers,  who  were  kings. 
TANCRED:  Father,  mine  eyes  do  not  remember  her. 
I  fashion  her  in  memory  as  a  love, 
A  warmth  that  little  fingers  in  the  night 
Groped  for  and  found,  whereat  my  timid  heart 

8 


Forgot  the  darkness  and  the  silence.  So  LILITH 

She  lives  for  me  as  tenderness  unseen  —  Act  I  Sc.  2 

A  baby's  refuge  in  the  peopled  night. 

URLAN:  She,  like  a  sunset,  gathered  to  herself 

All  loveliness,  and  perished.  Peace  is  hers  — 

The  tomb's  black  peace;  but  me  all  peacelessness 

Consumes.  A  flame  is  set  about  my  heart, 

And  fire  as  quenchless  as  the  ruby's  coal, 

The  mighty  gem  that  was  her  secret  dow'r, 

And  soori  her  dower  to  Death  — which  now,  unseen, 

Burns  on  in  quiet  on  her  quiet  breast. 

They  come  suddenly  upon  Lilith,  who,  robed  in  diaphanous 

green,  stands  beneath  an  almond  tree  and  bends 

down  a  branch,  whose  blossoms  she  smells. 

Ah!  God! 

TANCRED:  Ah!  Christ! 

LILITH:  Behold  you  me? 

URLAN:  Alas! 

TANCRED:  O  loveliness!  O  torment  in  the  blood! 

LILITH:  Now  hath  my  Master  need  of  me. 

TANCRED:  Thy  name? 

Whence,  and  for  what,  and  whither? 

LILITH:  Even  thus, 

O  Prince,  have  mortals  question  of  themselves. 

My  name  thou  knowest  not,  and  yet  shalt  know, 

And  know  too  late.  But  know  thou  this  indeed: 

Joy  is  my  sister,  sister  I  to  Death. 

URLAN:  My  son,  go  hence! 

The  prince  withdraws.       O  marvel  of  the  dusk! 

9 


LILITH    Be  thou  my  queen!  All  that  I  have  is  thine! 
Ad:  I  Sc.  2    LILITH:  Thou  told'st  but  lately  of  a  ruby:  I 
Were  sooner  won  with  jewels. 
URLAN:  Come  thou,  then! 

For  in  my  crypts  but  yesteryear  I  found 
Incomputable  treasuries  of  Eld: 
I  have  three  chests  of  gems  — sard,  emerald. 
And  rugged  rubies  dark  as  Satan's  blood. 
LILITH:  I  question  of  a  ruby.  Is  it  great? 
URLAN:  And  I  have  moonlike  pearls,  and  sapphire-stones, 
Blue  as  the  skies  of  Eden,  or  the  sea 
Far  out,  and  gems  whose  hearts,  as  dew,  conceal 
The  seven  fantasies  of  light.  Thine  arms 
Shall  plunge  them  deep  in  those. 
LILITH:  A  king  of  Spain 

Did  once  solicit  me  with  pearls.  .  .  .  But  thou 
Told'st  of  a  ruby. 

URLAN:  Mine  are  turquoises 

That  seem  as  innocent  as  youngest  flow'rs, 
Yet  have  had  baths  of  blood.  My  topaz-stones 
Are  like  the  eyes  of  some  great  cat  that  stares. 
With  emerald  and  amethyst  and  beryl 
Will  I  envelop  thee.  My  diamonds'  flames 
Shall  light  thee  as  with  suns.  Thy  chamber  walls 
Shall  be  of  opals  like  a  rainbow  mazed 
In  pearls  incomparable. 
LILITH:  I  have  worn 

Twin  emeralds  that  were  the  eyes  of  Baal, 
And  orbs  for  which  Semiramis  made  war. 
The  Soldan  hath  with  amethyst  and  gold 

10 


Shapen  me  thrones.  .  .  .  There  was  a  ruby—  LILITH 

URLAN:  Nay!  Act  I  Sc.  2 

Speak  nevermore  of  that!  Alas!  it  burns 

Full  on  the  brow  of  Death.  The  stained  tomb 

Is  made  its  casket,  and  its  guardians 

Are  even  the  sleepless  powers,  Pain  and  Love. 

I  say  Death  wears  that  ruby.  Wherefore,  queen, 

Take  thou  all  else,  and  rule. 

LILITH:  He  conquers  me 

Who  dares  to  pay  my  price.  My  price  thou  know'st. 

URLAN:  And  knowest  thou  did  I  but  say  the  word 

That  fire  would  vanquish  thee,  or  biting  thongs? 

LILITH:  Not  any  manacles  may  hold  this  flesh, 

For  which  all  kings  have  yearned,  nor  any  flame 

Subdue  me,  who  am  child  of  fiercer  fire, 

Nor  all  thy  hosts  constrain. 

She  moves  toward  the  king,  who  recoils. 

Hold  forth  thy  sword! 

'The  king  holds  forth  his  sword,  whose  blade, 
touched  by  Lilith,  falls  in  fragments. 

Even  so  thy  strength  were  broken,  and  thy  knights 
Made  heralds  for  thee  at  the  keeps  of  doom. 
URLAN:  Yet  go  not  from  me  now,  O  Sorceress! 
Night  comes  about  thee  as  about  a  star! 
Nay  —  enter  now  my  palace,  for  the  dark 
Grows  full  of  whispers.  Come  thou  speedily! 
It  may  be  I  shall  wrench  that  ruby-stone 
From  Death,  and  Night,  and  its  tremendous  guards. 

ii 


LILITH    LILITH:  Nay,  King.  But  on  the  morrow  I  shall  come 
Act  I  Sc.  3    To  give  thee  all  that  Death  and  Night  can  give. 

She  turns  and  disappears  in  the  gloom. 


Scene  3:  Morning  of  the  next  day.  Tancred  & 
Lilith  stand  again  in  the  garden-close. 

TANCRED:  Thou  art  so  strangely  beautiful!  Till  dawn 
Thou  stood'st  before  me  in  mysterious  light, 
And  cried  to  me  in  consummating  words 
Temptation  uttermost.  Comes  now  the  day. 
And  thou  art  still  more  fair,  and  dost  surpass 
What  midnight  murmured  of  thy  loveliness. 
LILITH:  The  strong  of  earth  bow  down,  adoring  me. 
For  me  shall  men  forsake,  deny,  abjure; 
For  me  shall  many  walk  disastrous  ways, 
That  one  may  find  and  perish  of  my  kiss. 
TANCRED:  Thine  be  the  price,  and  be  it  what  it  may! 
LILITH:  Where  is  the  king  ? 

TANCRED:  My  father  questions  God 

Within  his  chamber.  Since  the  midnight  fell, 
He  hath  cried  out  in  tears  and  agony. 
Destroy  him  not!  He  for  a  score  of  years 
Hath  made  his  heart  a  fane  of  memory. 
LILITH:  And  now  before  that  shrine  I  stand  and  smile. 
Are  all  men  mad? 

TANCRED:  Alas!  for  thou  wouldst  filch 

His  constancy,  and  thou  with  pearl-wan  hands 

12 


Wouldst  quench  that  whiter  lamp  within  his  breast!       L  i  L  i  T  H 
LI  LIT  H:  Each  flame  that  so  I  quench  shall  be  a  gem     A  61:  I  Sc.  3 
Which  I  shall  wear  forever.  But  hast  thou 
No  need  of  me?  Forget  thy  father's  pain! 
TANCREDIO  witch,  shall  I  be  faithless  to  my  sire? 
L  i  L  i  T  H  :  And  wherefore  faith?  O  Youth!  thine  elders  crave 
Ease  for  their  minds,  and  warn  thee  from  the  joys 
That,  found  by  thee,  were  menace  to  their  peace; 
Or,  found  by  thee,  were  lost  to  them.  For  self 
Cries  from  the  aged  heart  as  from  the  babe's. 
Poor  Youth!  their  sneers  await  thy  young  romance: 
The  Islands  that  to  thee  are  walled  with  light, 
Where  unimaginable  roses  bloom 
And  Beauty  stands  crowned  with  the  Seven  Stars, 
To  age  are  black,  inexorable  reefs 
Whereon  the  freezing  billows  mount  and  mourn. 
T  A  N  c  R  E  D  :  My  father  seeks  my  good,  and  mighty  men 
Design  me  noble  toils. 
L  i  L  i  T  H  :  O  trusting  one! 

Thou  soon  shalt  see  him  gather  to  his  breast 
That  which  he  names  to  thee  as  infamy; 
For  ever  so  does  Age  make  mock  of  Youth. 
Thou  dost  amuse  me! 

TANCRED:  How,  then,  shall  I  win 

Thy  kiss? 

L  i  L  i  T  H  :    Bring  but  the  gem  thy  mother  wears 
Low  in  the  darkness. 

TANCRED:  Peace!  Shall  then  my  heart 

Be  traitor  to  the  bosom  that  was  life 
And  love  to  me?  —  where  once  my  hunger  found 

13 


LILITH    The  food  that  all  have  taken,  all  forgot. 
Act  I  Sc.  3    Shall  then  these  debtor  hands,  that  once,  so  small, 
Entreated  her,  and  ne'er  in  vain,  return 
In  strength  she  gave  in  far,  forgotten  years, 
And  violate  the  unrequited  breast—- 
The breast  at  which  they  moved  in  helplessness  ? 
Oh,  treason  of  all  treasons! 
LILITH:  So  had  cried 

Thy  father,  and  his  father,  yea!  and  his, 
And  his,  and  his;  wherefore  thou  too  must  speak 
Even  as  thy  line  — fed  on  illusion,  deckt 
With  all  which  tinsel  honor  hath  devised 
To  cheat  their  days.  I  see  beyond  the  Dark 
The  gods  a-grin  at  thee! 
TANCRED:  O  witch!  perchance 

My  fathers  spoke  the  truth. 
LILITH:  Wiser  than  they 

Have  questioned:  "What  is  Truth?"  Thou  hastupreared 
On  these  unstable  sands  of  Time  and  Place 
An  idol  wrought  of  dust  and  tears.  Him  blind 
Thou  worshippest;  him  deaf  thou  dost  entreat; 
Him  dumb  thou  dost  await  with  ass's  ears, 
Expectant.  Me,  a  marvel  to  the  sense, 
(And  what  hast  thou  but  what  the  senses  tell?) 
Thou  dost  deny  and  question,  but  mine  eyes 
Gleam  on  thee,  being  lit  with  alien  light; 
My  lips  proclaim  thee  mysteries;  mine  arms 
Are  bond  for  all  thy  doubts,  not  mist  nor  mud, 
But  all  that  gods  desire  and  fools  reject. 
Behold  me! 


TAN c RED  —  closing  his  eyes:  Sorceress!  I  will  not  see!     LILITH 

Thine  eyes  contemn  me  and  thy  lips  arraign.  Act  I  Sc.  4 

Thy  dreadful  beauty  storms  the  sense,  and  breaks 

My  citadel  of  reason,  duty,  love. 

LILITH  —  embracing  him:  Thou  barrest  me  from  sight:  what  barrier 

Hastthou  for  this? 

TANCRED:  O  queen!  O  wonderful! 

There  cries  so  mad  a  music  at  my  heart 

I  envy  not  the  gods!  Take  what  thou  wilt! 

LILITH  —  releasing  him:  Bring  thou  to  me  that  ruby  of  the  dead! 


Scene  4:  ^Burial  crypt  of  the  castle,  a  vast  vault  in 

which  sculptured  tombs  crowd  the  darkness. 

tAmong  them  Tancred  &  Lilith  wander, 

the  former  bearing  a  torch. 

TANCRED:  Silence  is  monarch  here.  Methinks  my  heart, 

Even  as  this  crypt,  holds  but  the  dead  and  thee. 

LILITH:  Which  is  thy  mother's  tomb  ? 

TANCRED:  I  ne'er  before 

Have  trod  these  aisles.  My  father  said  the  tomb 

Is  beaten  silver,  and  a  lamp  of  gold 

Burns  silently  above  my  mother's  breast. 

That  lamp  my  father  tends;  his  hand  alone 

Hath  care  of  it,  and  he  for  twenty  years 

Hath  been  sole  mortal  here. 

LILITH:  How  mute  the  dead! 

TANCRED:  And  yet  men  say  that  far  among  these  tombs 


LILITH    Dwell  mighty  serpents,  pallid  as  the  moon. 
Act  I  Sc.  4    They  batten  on  the  dark,  and  plague  the  dead. 
Listen!  I  hear  the  shuffling  of  their  scales! 
Let  us  return! 

LILITH:  Courage!  Behold!  A  lamp 

Above  yon  tomb!  The  starven  flame  hath  died. 
Give  me  the  torch. 

They  mount  the  five  steps  of  the  tomb,  Lilith  bearing 

the  torch.  Tancred  lifts  the  silver 

cover  of  the  tomb. 

TANCRED:  Thou  dead! 

LILITH:  The  ruby!  Swift! 

TANCRED:  Was  this  my  mother  ? 
LILITH:  Swift!  My  lips  await! 

TANCRED:  O  thou  dear  dead,  forgive  me  in  my  need! 
Nay!  I  can  touch  thee  not! 
LILITH:  With  wrathful  gems, 

Each'  like  a  sun  that  sets  in  sullen  haze, 
Is  Satan  crowned,  and  he  would  give  them  all 
For  any  kiss  of  mine.  Behold  my  face! 
TANCRED:  Mother,  what  son  is  thine! 
LILITH:  Nay,  art  thou  mad  ? 

O  think  of  our  swift-coming  hour  of  bliss  — 
The  crying  and  the  silence!  In  mine  arms 
Thou  shalt  know  Paradise  a  sorry  tale, 
And  angered  angels  envious  of  thee 
Shall  turn  their  backs  on  Heaven. 
TANCRED  — taking  up  the  ruby:       Alas!  alas! 
Forgive  me,  holy  dead!  Ah!  how  it  burns, 

1,6 


Embered  as  with  Antares,star  of  sin!  LILITH 

A6t  I  Sc.  4 

Footsteps  are  heard. 

Who  comes? 

LILITH:         What  matters  it  ? 

u  R L A N  —  entering  hastily:  O  traitor  spawn! 

Who  with  the  treasure  sacred  to  the  dead 

Wouldst  purchase  thee  damnation! 

TANCRED  —  descending:  Even  as  thou 

I  fought,  and  found  the  battle  was  in  vain. 

For  who  with  beauty  terrible  as  hers 

Shall  long  contend? 

u  R  L  A  N  :  Put  back  the  gem ! 

TANCRED  —  holding  forth  the  ruby:         Take  thou 

The  stone  accurst,  and  burn  for  me  this  witch! 

For  I  cannot  repent,  beholding  her. 

u  R  L  A  N  —  taking  the  ruby: 

Her  will  I  burn  ere  evening. 
LILITH  —  aff  reaching  the  king:      Give  thou  me 
The  ruby. 

URLAN:     Stand  thou  back!  Gaze  not  at  me! 
What  mail  shall  now  defend,  what  sword  uphold, 
Mine  honor,  and  the  faith  of  twenty  years? 
LILITH:  I  promise  in  mine  arms  thou  shalt  receive 
The  joy  of  twenty  years  in  Heaven.  Give  me 
The  ruby! 

URLAN:     That  I  may  not  give.  Shall  not 
My  dead  look  forth  with  great  and  piteous  eyes, 
And  all  the  love  that  was  reproach  my  heart? 
LILITH  — laughing:  Aye!  keep  it,  and  I  hasten  with  this  boy 


LILITH    To  twilight  bowers  of  passion. 
Act  I  Sc.  4    u  R  LA  N  —  holding  forth  the  ruby:  Take  it! 

TANCRED  —  springing  for  ward:  Si  re ! 

House  thou  the  jewel  with  the  dead! 

URLAN:  That  thou 

Mayst  soon  again  betray  me? 

TANCRED:  Nay!  I  swear 

Thou  shalt  not  win  her  thus! 

LILITH:  Who  gives  the  gem 

Shall  take  me. 

TA  N  c  R  E  D  —  drawing  sword:  Thou,  restore  it  to  the  dead! 

URLAN  —  drawing  sword: 

Cub,  I  will  beat  thee  hence! 

TANCRED:  Stand  back!  I  too 

Have  seen  her  smile.  Beware! 
LILITH:  Drive  me  this  boy 

Away!  I  shall  be  sooner  in  thine  arms. 
URLAN  —  attacking  ^ancred,  and  holding  the  ruby  in  his 
left  hand:  Away!  Away!  Dost  dream  to  cope  with  me? 
I  have  slain  lords  and  paladins  in  war! 
TANCRED  —  defending  himself: 

Go  thou  and  greet  them! 

Lilith  takes  up  the  torch  and  casts  its  light  full  in 
Urlansface.  After  a  short  combat  he  falls. 

LILITH:  Ha!  the  king  is  down! 

TANCRED:  Father!  Arise!  I  did  but  jest!  Take  thou 
The  witch!  Arise! 


18 


Urlan  lifts  himself  on  one  arm,  and  with  the  other         L  i  L  i  T  H 
holds  forth  the  ruby  to  Lilith,  who  kneels  Act  I  Sc.  4 

beside  him,  and,  taking  the  gem,  kisses 
him  on  the  mouth.  Urlan 
falls  back  dead. 

LI  LIT  H  — rising:  Fair  journeying,  O  King! 

TANCRED— turning  to  her:  I  have  slain  my  sire  and  soon  will  cast  myself 

Against  the  Paynim,  and  have  done  with  life, 

Which  hath  betrayed  me.  Yet  will  first  I  know 

Thy  beauty,  nor  be  cheated  utterly 

In  my  great  sin.  Before  the  sightless  dead 

Will  I,  for  this  thy  loveliness,  take  hold 

And  master  thee,  who  have  won  thee  with  my  dead. 

L  i  L  i  T  H  :  O  fool,  thou  hast  not  won  me!  I  but  said 

He  gained  me  that  did  give  the  ruby.  He, 

Thy  father,  gave,  and  had  my  kiss.  Stand  back! 

My  Master  gives  me  power  over  thee. 

Thy  sword  shall  not  obtain  me,  nor  thy  love. 

She  throws  down  the  torch  and  draws 
back  among  the  tombs. 

I  shall  return  to  thee  in  seven  years: 

Gather  thee  strength,  for  thou  shalt  need  it  all! 

She  vanishes  among  the  tombs. 

TANCRED  —  casting  himself  beside  the  king:  My  father! 
The  torch  expires. 


LlLITH  Ad  II 

AftllSc.  i 

Scene  i:  Seven  years  later.  Tancred&  Gavain, 

his  friend,  ride  on  a  'white  winding  road, 

ascending  among  grassy  hills.  The 

time  is  early  morning. 

GAVAIN:  Now  dawn  sends  up  the  sun  upon  the  world. 

T A  N  c  R  E  D  :  There  is  no  wind  along  the  summer  grass  — 

Day  runs  upon  unshaken  dews.  How  sweet 

Is  life!  How  marvellous!  And  but  for  thee, 

Sturdy  and  gentle  friend,  my  life  were  not. 

GAVAIN:  'Twas  nothing!  'T  was  a  scuffle,  twenty  thrusts, 

And  five  rogues  handsomer  in  death  than  life. 

Thank  me  no  more! 

TANG  RED:  How  shall  I  cease  to  thank? 

Not  once,  but  many  times,  thy  sword  hath  been 

The  single  wand  Death  shrank  from.  * 

GAVAIN:  Say  no  more. 

Look!  Here  comes  one  we  '11  question  of  our  way. 

A  knight  comes  round  the  nearest  hill,  descending  a 
glen.  He  reins  in  before  Gavain  &  Tancred. 

T  A  N  c  R  E  D  :  Friend,  tell  us  of  the  road:  what 's  at  its  end  ? 

KNIGHT:  The  sea,  beyond  the  mountains.  All  roads  end 

In  water. 

TANCRED:  Or  in  dust. 

KNIGHT:  I  have  but  been 

Thus  far  along  the  highway;  for  I  came 

Upon  another  mission. 

20 


GAVAIN:  What  was  that?  LILITH 

KUIGHT— pointing:  There  lives  a  man  of  magic  up        Ad  II  Sc.  i 

the  glen  — 

One  terrible  and  ancient.  He  hath  supped 
With  Hecate,  and  sought  the  truth  in  glooms 
Lit  by  the  eyes  of  dragons.  He  can  use 
Lethean  drugs  in  sluggish  sirups  cloaked, 
Made  in  an  isle  of  deadly  fragrances. 
His  goblet  is  a  skull.  He  writes  his  curse 
In  blood  that  will  not  dry. 
T  A  N  c  R  E  D  :  We  '11  question  him. 

Farewell! 

Gavain  and  Tancredride  into  the  glen. 
GAVAIN:  Think  you  he  lied? 
TANCRED:  Nay.  I  have  heard 

Of  mighty  wizards,  dumb  with  awful  news, 
Told  by  sick  suns  and  venom-dripping  moons. 
They  in  the  blood  o'  the  Sphinx  have  dipt  their  pens, 
And  traced  its  salt  to  wisdom. 
GAVAIN:  We  shall  see  — 

They  come  upon  the  narrow  mouth  of  a  cave. 
And  soon,  methinks. 

They  alight,  tie  their  horses  to  a  dead  tree  near  by,  and 

enter  the  cave,  a  chamber  a  score  of  feet  in  width,  dimly 

lighted,  the  end  invisible,  and  its  roof  lost  in  the  gloom. 

The  wizard,  a  man  of  withered  frame  and  huge,  hairless 

head,  is  bent  over  a  basin  of  blackened  silver, 

half -full  of  a  scarlet  fluid  that  is 

in  constant  motion. 

21 


LILITH    WIZARD:  I  see  two  foolish  knights: 

Act II  Sc.  i     One 's  clad  in  white  and  one  in  black. 

TANCRED:  Am  I 

In  black? 

WIZARD:  Thou  sayest! 

TANCRED:  Hearest  thou  the  wizard, 

O  Gavain?  I  'm  to  die! 
•  WIZARD:  A  man  may  die 

More  deaths  than  one. 

G  AV  A  i  N  :  Well,  one 's  enough  for  me! 

TANCRED:  Say  on,  and  tell  me  how  I  am  to  die! 
WIZARD:  Deeper  into  the  Darkness  can  I  gaze 
Than  most,  yet  find  the  Darkness  still  beyond. 
What  sword-winged  stars  deny  me?  Thou  art  dear 
To  Satan.  Bloated  dragons  clutch  at  thee, 
With  bellies  like  Hell's  roof,  and  eyes  of  ice. 
What  work  is  on?  Far  down  I  hear  the  chant 
Of  giant  voices  solemn  as  the  sea's. 
And  now,  all 's  blank  and  dumb. 
GAVAIN:  What,  then,  of  me? 

Why  go  I  in  white  armor? 
WIZARD:  I  have  seen 

The  bat  against  Antares,  and  the  moth 
A  blot  upon  the  moon.  I  see  a  fool. 
GAVAIN:  A  fool  thyself! 

WIZARD:  Hell's  spiders  weave  thy  shroud! 

GAVAIN:  Thou  seemest  one! 

WIZARD:  Milk  o' the  Devil's  mare! 

Bubbles  on  poison!  Laughest  thou  at  me? 
Thou  shalt  not  laugh  when  at  thy  ribs  the  yew 

22 


Sets  many  tickling  roots!  LILITH 

GAVAIN:  I  ride  in  white.  Act  II  Sc.  2 

I  shall  go  forth  below  the  day's  turquoise, 

Beholding  still  the  sun  in  his  domain. 

WIZARD:  I  say  no  more,  though  willing:  with  a  click, 

Death  darts  a  bony  finger  to  his  teeth, 

Compelling  silence.  Get  thee  forth,  and  know! 

I  see  a  lake.  I  see  a  bleaching  skull. 

I  see  the  spider  of  the  scarlet  web, 

And  ivy  slanting  sunward  on  the  stone. 

Soon  the  night-demons  nibble  at  the  moon. 

GAVAIN:  He  does  but  maunder.  Let  us  go. 

TANCRED:  On,  then! 

Tancred  and  Gavain  leave  the  cavern,  mount  their 
horses,  and  ride  into  the  hills. 


Scene  2:  A  lake  among  the  mountains.  A  castle,  huge 

and  dark,  built  on  rock  rising  sheer  from  the  water, 

dominates  the  northern  shore.  It  is  sunset-time.  The 

Count  Lur ion,  a  man  of  sixty  years,  stands 

on  the  battlements  with  Li  lit h.  She  is 

in  the  guise  of  a  girl  of  eighteen. 

LUR  ION:  The  dark  will  soon  be  on  us.  'T  was  a  day 
Full  of  keen  light,  and  shadows  that  were  balm.  .  .  . 
How  very  still  it  is!  The  sunset  seems 
An  opal  altar  strange  with  light. 
LILITH:  And  see! 

23 


Li  LITH    Out  of  the  glory  falls  the  water-fowl 
Act  II  Sc.  2    And  sets  a  silver  V  upon  the  lake. 

LURION:  How  sad  can  beauty  make  us!  But  thy  face 
Makes  me  not  sad.  Why  is  it  that  my  sleep 
Is  marvellous  with  thee?  For  thou  dost  come 
And  visit  me  in  tyrannies  of  dream 
And  many  guises.  Now  art  thou  a  queen, 
And  now  a  lovely  beggar-maid,  and  now 
A  coral-crowned  enchantress  of  the  sea, 
Or  witch  abominable  and  exquisite, 
Smiling,  a  cruel-eyed,  flame-handed  thing. 
What  is  thy  mystery? 
L  i  L  i  T  H  :  Why,  none  at  all, 

Save  thy  desire. 

LURION:  I  would  that  I  were  young, 

And  forth  again  to  some  red  tournament, 
With  comrades  at  my  side.  It  is  not  well 
That  age  should  turn  desirous  eyes  on  youth. 
LI  LITH:  Thou  turnest  them. 

LURION:  A  spell  is  on  my  blood. 

Against  the  frozen  emerald  of  thine  eyes 
My  reason  hath  no  refuge. 
LILITH:  Ask  thou  none! 

Thou  dost  content  me. 

LURION:  Child,  what  knowest  thou  ? 

I  know,  and  deeper  therefore  is  my  sin, 
Who  mix  my  grayness  with  thy  gold. 
LILITH:  Forget 

Thy  scruples:  have  I  any?  Look!  The  sea 
Of  twilight  deepens,  fed  from  many  rills 

24 


Ofshadow.  LILITH 

LURION:     Fell  a  shadow  on  my  heart,  Ad:  II  Sc.  2 

Come  like  a  little  wind,  and  gone  as  soon. 

Give  me  the  dew-cool  lilies  of  thy  hands! 

I  cannot  wait! 

LILITH:          The  moon,  a  silver  bowl, 

Pours  witch-wine  on  the  world. 

LURION:  Turn  thou  on  me 

The  glad  great  eyes  of  loveliness  and  sin, 

Thou  mystery,  thou  splendor,  thou  delight! 

Hasten! 

LILITH:  The  moon  is  out  above  the  lake, 

Walking  with  golden  serpents  in  her  path  — 

The  moon,  white  sorceress! 

LURION:  Thine  are  the  breasts 

Where  Time  sets  not  his  kiss!  Come  where  the  harps 

Are  sorrowful!  I  would  find  Heaven  before  I  die, 

Knowing  its  hidden  rose  is  not  more  sweet 

Than  is  thy  splendid  body  bared  for  love. 

LILITH  :  Look  southward  o'er  the  waters! 

LURION:  I  see  naught. 

LILITH:  And  I  see  two,  and  those  two  shall  be  one. 

LURION:  What  meanest  thou?  Come  swiftly!  Still  I  feel 

The  god's  breath  on  the  ashes  of  the  heart. 

LILITH:  And  wouldst  caress  me  with  thy  parchment  palm? 

There  's  madder  work  tonight,  and  thou  hast  seen 

The  vesper  purples  of  a  tragic  day. 

She  steps  to  the  edge  of  the  battlement. 
LURION:  Gaze  not  upon  the  moon,  and  make  me  not 


LILITH    A  god  one  moment  and  the  next  — a  moth! 
Ad:  II  Sc.  3    Thou  seemest  now  no  waif  of  Paradise, 
But  rather  as  a  flower  ordained  to  doom 
And  fragrant  of  disaster. 
LILITH:  Seest  thou  naught, 

There  to  the  south? 

LURION:  I  see  the  mountains  rise 

Cold  in  their  desolation. 
LILITH:  So  shalt  thou 

Sit  desolate,  and  see  me  nevermore! 

She  leafs  from  the  battlement. 

LURION:  She  falls!  Far  down  she  strikes!  The  foam  ascend 
The  waters  close  upon  her  loveliness! 
The  ripples  widen  — widen.  .  .  .  Now  the  lake 
Is  calm  again. .  .  .  God!  will  she  never  rise? 
O  dire  delay!  O  soundless  feet  of  Time, 
Slow  as  the  wounded  hours  of  pain!  I  think 
There  is  no  hope.  .  .  .  Lost!  lost!  and  O  my  heart! 
Death!  Death!  thou  shadow  whose  entreated  hands 
Close  the  tomb's  door  on  Beauty  and  her  grief! 


Scene  3:  Tancred and  Gavain  ride  on  a  road  skirt- 
ing the  southern  shore  of  a  lake  among  the  mountains. 
On  the  northern  cliffs  of  the  lake  rises  a  castle,  huge 
and  dark.  Midmost  of  the  lake  is  an  islet,  on 
'which  are  the  white  marble  ruins  of 
a  small  temple  or  shrine. 

TANCRED:  What  winds  are  on  the  sunset!  Rank  by  rank 

26 


Its  angels  close  their  flaming  wings,  and  die.  LILITH 

GAVAIN:  Bread  and  lake  water  for  our  fare  tonight!       A6t  II  Sc.  3 

We  '11  rest  beside  the  shore.  It  will  be  good 

To  get  this  weight  of  armor  off  the  back. 

The  day  was  hot. 

TANCRED:  I  would  I  knew  what  lord 

Lives  in  that  sullen  keep. 

GAVAIN:  It  matters  not, 

For  we  'd  be  overlong  in  reaching  it 

Tonight. 

TANCRED:  Tomorrow's  larks  shall  find  us  there. 

How  sweet  to  wander  on  and  on!  O  World, 

Thou  window  of  a  single  bar,  and  that 

The  hard  horizon! 

G AVAI N  :  Come  —  dismount  and  eat. 

<fhey  dismount  at  the  lakeside,  hobble  their  horses ,  and 
break  bread  together.  Tancred  sings. 

A  SONG  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

From  earth's  horizon,  dim  and  wide, 

The  stained  moon  swings  free. 
Castor  and  Pollux,  side  by  side, 

Go  downward  to  the  sea. 

Thy  good  sword  to  my  need,  O  friend! 

And  my  strong  shield  to  thine. 
How  bright,  before  the  darkness  end, 

The  star-companions  shine! 


27 


L  i  L  i  T  H  Two  hearts  may  greatly  dare  the  West, 

Act  II  Sc.  3  Where  one  might  know  dismay  — 

Two  barks  join  surely  in  the  Quest, 
Where  one  might  miss  the  way. 

Face  thou  with  me  the  immortal  sun, 

And  counsel  me  by  night! 
In  wassail  and  the  deed  well  done 

We  two  shall  fare  aright. 

Ever  wast  thou  the  clean  blue  blade, 

The  comrade  of  the  skies, 
The  heart's,  the  hand's  abiding  aid, 

With  truth  in  heart  and  eyes. 

'The  cry  of  an  owl  is  heard. 

GAVAIN:  Ho,  ho!  Thou  hast  an  owlet  answering! 
TANCRED:  I  think  no  man  had  ever  friend  like  thee, 
So  strong  and  yet  so  gentle. 
GAVAIN:  Say  it  not! 

I  'm  but  as  other  men. 
TANCRED:  But  see!  The  moon! 

She  comes  to  wake,  on  beach  and  mountainside, 
The  placid  lilies  of  her  sorcery. 
GAVAIN:  Said  prettily!  But  in  her  haunted  light 
One  sleeps  less  soundly. 
TANCRED:  I,  before  we  sleep, 

Will  swim  a  while. 

GAVAIN:  Thou  knowest  I  cannot  swim; 

28 


But  at  the  shallow  verge  I  '11  squat  and  splash,  LILITH 

And  borrow  of  the  lake  a  little.  Chill  Aft  II  Sc.  3 

It  seems,  and  very  silent. 

They  strip  and  go  down  to  the  water. 

T A  N  c  R  E  D  :  Wait!  Our  swords. 

GAVAIN:  Fear  not  — none 's  forth.  ...  Is  it  in  yonder  tow'rs 

That  solemn  sound  is  born,  profound,  remote, 

Like  the  slow  tolling  of  a  giant  bell 

In  crypts  below  the  ocean? 

TANCRED:  I  hear  naught 

GAVAIN:  'T  is  gone.  I  think  it  strange  you  did  not  hear. 

'Tancred  swims  out  in  the  lake,  reaching  at  last  the 
islet.  He  stands  before  the  broken  marbles. 

TANCRED  :  What  Hand  was  on  the  adorers  and  the  god? 
Faith  found  the  ancient  Silence.  I  alone, 
Drawn  by  the  drifting  moon's  cold  loveliness, 
May  kneel  — and  to  what  saint? 

Lilith  comes  up  from  the  waters  and  stands 
before  him. 

LILITH:  Kneel  thou  to  me. 

TANCRED:  The  moonlight  makes  thee  all  one  dewy  pearl! 
LILITH:  Kneel,  kneel,  if  thou  wouldst  wear  me! 
TANCRED:  Now  I  know 

Thy  beauty  and  thy  cunning!  Thou  art  she 
Who  didst  betray  me  seven  years  ago, 
Slaying  my  heart's  youth  with  thy  treachery. 
Thy  hands  are  scarlet  with  the  blood  of  Hope! 

29 


LILITH    LILITH:  For  thine  own  good,  O  Prince! 
AdIISc.j    TANCRED:  Not  so: 

the  wound 

Grows  deeper  with  the  years. 
LILITH:  I  am  thy  cure. 

She  draws  nearer. 

TANCRED:  There  is  no  cure. 

LILITH:  But  me— my  lips 

and  breast! 

TANCRED:  Thy  beauty  is  an  arrow  in  the  heart  — 
A  sword  upon  the  spirit  and  the  sense, 
And  music  is  thy  footfall  into  Time! 
LILITH:  Kneel,  then! 
TANCRED:  I  will  not  kneel! 

LILITH:  Then, 

must  I  kneel. 

She  bends  a  knee  to  Tancred  and  holds 
forth  her  arms. 

TANCRED:  Christ!  thou  dost  shake  the  night  with 

loveliness, 

Thou  pearl  whose  mother  was  the  moon!  Ah!  thou 
Dost  brim  the  world  with  beauty! 
LILITH:  Kneel  with  me! 

Accept  me,  for  I  am  the  breast  of  snow 
That  hides  a  heart  of  flame! 
TANCRED:  Ah!  beautiful! 

I  kneel!  I  worship! 
LILITH:  Wilt  thou  waste  my  life? 

30 


Tell  me  thou  loves t  me!  LILITH 

TANCRED  —  clasping  Lilith:  I  love!  Ah,  God!  Act II  Sc.  3 

Ah,  God! 

A  cry  is  heard  from  the  southern  shore  of  the 

lake.  Tancred  struggles  to  his  feet l, 

Lilith  clinging  to  him. 

LILITH:  Go  not!  Go  not! 

TANCRED:  Was  that  my  friend  that  called  ? 

There 's  peril  on  the  wind!  Nay!  let  me  go! 

The  distant  cry  is  heard  again.  Lilith  clings  to  him. 

LILITH:  Thou  shalt  not  go!  'T  was  nothing.  Hear  thou  me! 

TANCRED:  My  friend  hath  called  me! 

LILITH:  'Twas  the  owl  — 

the  owl! 

And  I  —  I  call!  Shall  this  be  naught  to  thee  — 
The  beauty  of  the  love-entreating  breast? 
The  crying  of  the  love-entreating  lips? 
Ah!  lost  in  long  oblivions  of  bliss,  — 
Ah!  given  to  some  tide  of  dreadful  joy, 
Clasp  me  forever! 

The  cry,  very  faint ',  is  heard  for  the  last  time. 

TANCRED:  'T is  my  friend! 

LILITH:  Come,  thou, 

Led  by  these  hands  through  myriad  Heavens  of  sense! 

TANCRED:  Alas!  What  cry  was  that ? 

LILITH:  Accept  thou  me! 

So  shall  the  golden  harpstring  of  our  joy 

31 


LILITH    Tremble  against  infinity,  nor  cease. 
Act  II  Sc.  3    TANCRED:  I  think  it  was  my  friend. 

LILITH:  Accept  thou  me, 

That  we,  now  twain  in  loneliness,  become 

One  raging  ecstasy  of  flesh  and  soul! 

TANCRED:  It  may  have  been  the  owl.  Give  me  thy  lips! 

tfhey  sink  to  their  knees  in  a  long  kiss.  ^The  silence 

deepens.  Lilith  slips  from  his  arms  and 

springs  to  the  sands  of  the  lake. 

LILITH:  Too  late!  Too  late!  O  fool!  It  was  thy  friend! 

He 's  bloody  now,  who  said  that  he  had  been 

Dipt  in  the  blood  of  lions  for  a  charm. 

TANCRED:  Now  will  I  die,  if  swords  remain  to  slay! 

Thee  first  I  '11  strangle! 

LILITH:  Thou  shalt  seize  as  soon 

The  water-snake.  A  pearl  of  Hell,  I  sink 

To  gulfs  thou  knowest  not.  Thou  shalt  go  forth 

To  new  disasters  and  to  hooded  Fates. 

Strange  is  the  star  thou  followest.  Her  ray 

Is  downward,  and  the  road  is  desolate 

Whereon  thou  goest,  dreaming  of  its  end. 

But  all  men  falter,  and  the  road  abides, 

That,  sun  by  sun,  the  years  are  dust  upon  — 

Shadow  and  ashes  and  an  echo  lost, 

And  iris  ending  in  eternal  mist! 

Lilith  sinks  into  the  lake,  ^ancred  kneels 
in  the  moonlight. 


Aft   III  LlLITH 

Ad  I II  Sc.  i 

Scene  i :  Three  years  later.  A  noonday  in  Spring. 

Tancred,  mounted  and  alone,  has  stopped  on  a  road 

leading  northward  toward  snow-capped 

mountains,  and  looks  down  on 

a  village  below  him. 

TANCRED:  Half-nun,  half-Maenad,  April  weeps  and  smiles. 

The  world's  surprise  of  blossoming  is  come 

In  ancient  woodlands  beautiful  with  Spring. 

My  blood 's  a-dance  today,  and  in  my  heart 

Great  wings  unfold.  I  hunger  for  the  Far.  .  .  . 

The  wind  is  cold  and  clear.  Deep  in  the  West 

I  see  a  fading  rainbow's  plinth,  and  dream 

The  mountain-gnomes  are  burning  opal-stones. 

The  nearer  mountains  rise  like  frozen  wine 

On  the  northwestern  sapphire.  'T  is  a  day 

And  region  made  for  marvel.  I  would  seek 

The  flower  Love  finds  in  solitary  places  — 

The  lonely  rose  he  hath.  Ah,  surely  I, 

Somewhere  between  the  sunset  and  the  north,  — 

Between  the  first-born  lilies  and  the  last, 

Shall  come  on  breathless  wonderment,  and  know 

The  mortal  love  of  an  immortal  breast, 

Or  solitude  of  beauty  long  asleep  — 

Some  rose  that  blossomed  from  the  dust  of  kings. 

The  boy  Ulf  comes  up  the  road. 

ULF:  A  knight!  A  knight!  Good  morrow,  mighty  sir! 

33 


LILITH    Wilt  tell  me  of  the  wars? 

Ad:  III  Sc.  i    TANCRED:  First  tell  thou  me 

What's  past  the  mountains  yonder, 
u  L  F :  Kings  and  queens! 

0  draw  thy  sword  and  let  me  feel  its  edge! 
TANCRED:  All  in  good  time.  Is  this  the  road  that  leads 
Up  to  the  snows  ? 

ULF:  It  takes  thee  to  that  road. 

On  those  far  peaks  a  white  snow-maiden  sits, 

Guarding  great  pearls  for  him  who  wins  to  her; 

But  it  is  told  a  dragon  bars  the  way. 

Hast  slain  a  dragon? 

TANCRED:  Nay,  but  shall  ere  long. 

Is  there  true  word  of  where  the  monster  waits? 

ULF:  None,  but  he's  there.  Show  me  thy  dagger's  point! 

TANCRED:  Be  patient,  imp!  The  dragon  — 

breathes  he  fire? 

ULF:  Oh,  little  else!  What  giants  hast  thou  slain? 
Tell  me  a  tale! 

TANCRED:       I  first  would  eat.  Where  lies 
Thy  father's  home  ? 

ULF:  A  quarter-league  from  here. 

Come,  if  thou  hungerest.  The  sun  is  high. 
Now  crawls  the  thick-lipped  honey  from  the  bowl, 
And  oaten  cakes  are  pleasant. 
TANCRED:  Let  us  go. 

1  will  reveal  how  giants  are  subdued. 

They  pass  on  down  the  road,  Tancred  smiling, 
the  boy  grasping  the  stirrup. 

34 


Scene  2:  "The  next  day  and  the  same  road,  but  high    LILITH 
up  among  the  greater  hills.  Snow-peaks  rise  farther   Act  III  Sc.  2 
north.  Tancred,  mounted,  converses  with 
Geoffrey,  a  man  of  mature  years. 
It  is  late  afternoon. 

TAN c RED:  One  would  have  said  the  road  ends  here. 

GEOFFREY:  Not  so. 

But  it  is  rarely  used.  'T  is  but  a  path. 

Hence  onward. 

TANCRED:        Is  this  home  of  thine  the  last 

Below  the  snows  ? 

GEOFFREY:  It  is  the  last. 

TANCRED:  'Tissaid 

A  dragon  waits  this  side  the  heights. 

GEOFFREY:  'Tissaid! 

Down  in  the  village  they  have  time  and  tongues 

For  babbling. 

TANCRED:      Well,  a  pity!  I  had  hoped 

To  slay  the  beast.  Tell  me:  what  is  thy  trade? 

A  shepherd  ? 

GEOFFREY:  So  —  and  humbly. 

TANCRED:  Hast  thou  kin? 

GEOFFREY:  An  only  daughter.  She  is  nowise  fair. 

TANCRED:  Fear  nothing.  Yet  before  I  take  the  road, 

I  'd  eat  and  slumber.  Morning  is  the  best 

For  things  untried. 

GEOFFREY:  Dismount  thee,  then,  and  lead 

Thy  charger  to  the  left.  Yet  tell  me  first 

Thy  title. 

35 


LILITH    TANCRED:!  was  prince;  now  I  am  naught. 
Act  III  Sc.  3    GEOFFREY:  Oh,  say  not  so!  Lordship  is  in  thy  gaze! 
Mine  is  too  humble  an  abode  for  thee, 
The  fare  too  meagre,  and  the  folk  too  low. 
TANCRED:  All  breath  is  warm,  and  all  men  are  akin. 
'Tis  evil  makes  the  difference. 
GEOFFREY:  Knightly  said! 

Come  thou  this  way.  (Loudly)  Amara,  light  the  fire! 


Scene  3 :  A  <week  later.  Evening.  Tancred  stands 

alone  by  a  mountain  stream,  near 

the  home  of  Geoffrey. 

TANCRED:  Ah!  it  is  love  ?  So  suddenly  her  voice 
Slipt  into  music!  But  a  few  nights  past 
I  heard  the  nightingale:  into  my  heart 
He  sang  a  sadness.  Now  I  stand  and  dream 
Of  things  I  have  not  known,  and  burning  hours, 
Closed  in  by  darkness  with  the  lips  we  love. 
Now  I  am  changed,  becoming  one  with  those 
Whose  hearts  the  moon  hath  set  to  mutiny  — 
Made  sadder  than  the  saddest  nightingale 
Of  all  old  midnights,  still  I  seem  to  hear 
A  music  from  a  silence  past  the  world. 
War-hungers  die.  I  dream  of  tenderness 
And  beauty  irresistible,  that  comes 
About  the  heart  like  some  eternal  wind. 
O  strange  and  tender  and  enchanted  thoughts, 
Like  flowers  without  a  yesterday!  Ye  steal 

36 


In  fragrance  to  my  heart,  and  are  of  her  LILITH 

Whose  vision  haunts  with  marvel  and  desire.  Act  III  Sc.  3 

Now  comes  the  star-companioned  moon  to  cast 

Her  gentler  day  upon  the  world.  Afar, 

Washing  with  pearl  the  mountains  and  the  stream, 

She  comes,  more  silent  than  the  mist  or  flow'r. 

And  oh!  another  comes!         Enter  A  mar  a. 

AMARA:  I  did  not  know 

That  thou  wast  here. 

TANCRED:  Yet  am  I  here. 

AMARA:  I  think 

My  father  calls. 

TANCRED:         It  is  another  calls. 

AMARA:  I  hear  him  not. 

TANCRED:  Yet  shalt  thou  hear.  Ah,  thou! 

Thy  mouth  is  made  for  kisses,  and  thine  eyes 

For  tears! 

AMARA:  What  sayest  thou  to  me? 

TANCRED:  I  say 

I  shall  be  moon  above  thy  snows  of  sleep. 

Ah,  wonderful!  how  shall  I  make  thee  know 

Thy  wonder? 

AMARA:         I  am  lowly  and  ashamed  — 

And  I  must  go. 

TANCRED:         Nay,  listen  thou,  for  I 

Have  slipt  the  flesh,  and  am  a  spirit  now. 

Nay,  speak,  for  I  would  hear  thy  silvern  voice, 

Like  moonlight  audible  — a  mystic  strain, 

Found  but  by  Music  in  her  farthest  dream, 

And  found  but  once. 

37 


LILITH    AMARA:  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  say? 

Act  III  Sc.  3    TANCRED:  Say  that  thou  lovest  me! 

AMARA:  Alas !  that  thou 

Shouldst  stoop  to  me! 

TANCRED:  Unsay  it,  for 'tis  thou 

That  bendest  from  thy  throne! 

AMARA:  Thou  lovest  me? 

TANCRED:  I  love  thee,  and  I  love  thee,  and  I  love! 

I  was  a  wanderer  until  this  love 

Closed  in  its  crystal  my  unhappy  soul 

And  made  thy  face  the  Everlasting  Rose! 

Thou  art  what  other  beauty  can  but  seem! 

Thou  art  what  Music  promises!  Thine  eyes 

Are  part  of  Paradise! 

AMARA:  Ah  no!  Ah  no! 

TANCRED:  Ah  yes!  O  goddess,  woman,  rose  and  star! 

Lo!  with  what  coals  have  these  my  lips  been  touched  — 

Lit  at  an  altar-flame  of  Love's  despair! 

O  face  that  brings  my  spirit  to  her  knees! 

Turn  to  me,  that  the  blinding  sight  may  make 

The  world  one  silence,  and  our  hearts  one  song! 

Be  merciful!  For  thee  high  Beauty  takes 

The  raiment  of  her  immortality. 

AMARA:  What  thing  is  this?  I  do  not  understand. 

TANCRED:  Turn  thou  to  me,  for  now  is  come  a  night 

Of  one  still  star,  and  thou  its  holy  fire! 

AMARA:  Scarce  hast  thou  seen  me! 

TANCRED:  Deeply  have  I  seen! 

As  men  in  one  sweet  breath  may  know  the  air, 

Or  water,  with  its  crystal  at  the  mouth, 

38 


So  do  I  know  all  beauty  from  thy  face,  L  i  L  i  T  H 

Thou  that  art  Beauty's  word  made  flesh  — ah!  thou        Act  III  Sc.  4 

Whose  dreams  are  whiter  than  thy  housing  breast,  — 

Whose  love  within  my  veins  is  wine  of  light,  — 

Who  in  a  thousand  day-dreams  hast  my  kiss! 

Turn  tenderly,  for  now  I  see  thy  tears, 

Like  pure  nativities  of  dew.  I  weep, 

For  mystery  is  on  thee  as  a  veil, 

And  thou  hast  been  the  rose  of  darker  worlds. 

A  MAR  A:  Thou  lovest  me? 

TANCRED  —  embracing  her:  I  love  thee! 

AMARA:  Say  no  more! 

One  tear  is  truer  than  a  thousand  words, 

And  warm  upon  my  face  I  find  thy  vow. 

A  cloud  covers  the  moon. 


Scene  4:  Tancred  stands  alone  in  the  same  place. 
It  is  Autumn  of  the  next  year. 

TANCRED:  Now  fall  the  shadows  gaunter,  as  the  wind 
Plucks  at  the  golden  cerements  of  the  year. 
What  is  it  Autumn  sets  us  longing  for? 
Lost  in  the  central  gardens  of  delight, 
I  wandered.  Now  the  rain  is  on  the  rose, 
And  mine  are  unknown  hungers,  and  I  seek 
That  which  no  man  hath  sought,  nor  dared  to  find. 
O  thou  inexorable  Satiety, 
Who  passest  all  the  ramparts  of  the  soul  — 
Soundless  as  eagle-shadows  on  the  snow! 

39 


LILITH    O  perishable  iris  of  romance 
Act  III  Sc.  4    And  fringing  flames  of  marvel,  ye  are  fled! 

The  night  and  day  were  wonderful  with  her  — 

The  night  that  heard  her  holy  whispers  die. 

The  day  that  gave  her  murmurs  to  my  heart. 

What  hast  thou  done,  O  strong  and  dreadful  Change? 

I  did  not  wish  it!  What  hast  thou  achieved? 

I  did  not  wish  it!  Who  of  his  own  will 

Abandons  Paradise?  What  hast  thou  done? 

For  I  could  build  up  Heaven  from  her  face, 

And  from  her  voice  the  music  of  its  harps.  .  .  . 

What  more  could  she  have  given,  she  that  drew 

A  rainbow  through  my  soul  ?  What  cravest  thou, 

0  heart  of  mine,  so  poor  and  yet  so  vast? 
Something  beyond —  ah!  far  beyond  these  hours! 
Now,  as  the  great  cathedral  of  the  day 

Draws  captive  glories  to  its  western  nave, 

1  travail,  sending  forth  a  peaceless  heart 

On  quests  that  cease  in  splendor,  and  to  dooms 
That  throne  me,  and  to  darkness  lit  by  swords. 
I  turn  from  Time  and  circumstance,  to  hear 
The  sound  of  battles  on  another  star. 
Oh!  comrades  of  that  destiny!  I  — 

Lilith  appears. 

God!  the  witch! 
LILITH:  Come  forth  with  me,  O  Prince! 

The  hour  hath  struck! 
Put  on  thy  mail  —  the  far  Adventure  waits. 
TANCRED:  Last  night  I  saw  the  comet,  like  a  sword 

40 


Upheld  by  Satan,  searching  Time  and  space.  LILITH 

Seeing,  I  thought  of  thee.  A61  III  'Sc.  4 

LILITH:  Put  on  thy  mail! 

T  A  N  c  R  E  D  :  Why  should  I  temporize,  O  witch,  with 

thee? 

Shall  I  not  rather  slay  thee?  Thou  dost  go 
With  Hell's  black  halo  round  thy  head. 
LILITH:  Put  on 

Thy  mail! 

TANCRED:  Thy  heart  is  colder  than  the  light 
Between  the  northern  ocean  and  the  moon! 
Thou  art  of  evil! 

LILITH:  I  build  up  thy  soul. 

Why  wast  thou  born,  O  mortal,  save  to  feel 
Sorrow  or  joy  ?  It  little  matters  which. 
Thou  drowsest  in  contentment.  Thou  dost  need 
A  fire-voiced  wind  to  laugh  thee  from  thy  sleep, 
Or  trumpet  of  a  god  that  never  slept. 
Wilt  keep  the  small  horizon  of  a  snake? 
Put  on  thy  mail!  The  far  Adventure  waits! 
TANCRED:  Go,  and  abandon  her? 
LILITH:  She  but  delays 

Thy  footsteps  on  the  white,  immortal  road. 
TANCRED:  Witch,  she  hath  need  of  me! 
LILITH:  Her  need  is  naught  — 

A  peasant's  fondness. 
TANCRED:  Christ!  I  cannot  go! 

The  clinging  arms  and  the  surrendered  breast  — 
Are  those,  then,  naught  ? 
LILITH:  Diviner  things  await. 


LILITH    TANCRED :  The  gentle  brow,  the  large  entreating  eyes. 
Act  III  Sc.  4    The  woven  turquoise  of  her  little  veins! 
Alas! 

LILITH:  And  were  thy  kisses  there  today  ? 
TANCRED:  Nay,  but  ere  long. 
LILITH:  New  heavens  shall  beacon 

thee 

Beyond  the  ashes  of  thy  love's  dead  star. 
TANCRED:  It  hath  not  died! 

LILITH:  It  dies,  and  tediously. 

TANCRED:  I  will  not  have  it  so! 
LILITH:  'T is  written. 

TANCRED:  Christ! 

I  shudder  from  the  wisdom  of  this  witch! 
LILITH:  My  wisdom  cannot  harm  thee.  Let  us  go! 
She  is  a  humble  creature.  Dost  thou  think 
Her  puddle  soul  shall  ever  glass  thine  own? 
So  men  turn  ever  to  these  human  flow'rs, 
Until  the  strange  become  the  commonplace, 
And  ruin 's  on  the  garden.  Come  thou  forth! 
TANCRED:  I  cannot  go,  I  swear  to  thee  by  all 
The  hearts  that  Love  hath  broken  or  made  whole! 
LILITH:  What  is  it  she  can  give  that  I  shall  not 
Give  the  more  greatly?  Turn  thy  lips  to  me! 
Hers  is  a  thin  and  sweetish  wine:  my  draft 
Is  rapture  unendurable. 
TANCRED:  I  know 

Thy  words  are  true,  as  wandering  Passion  takes 
Music  for  voice.  And  yet  I  know  them  Talse. 
LILITH:  I  wait  thee  as  a  night  that  waits  its  moon. 

42 


Forsake  thy  past  love's  poor  idolatries!  LILITH 

Madness  awaits,  and  midnights  drunk  with  joy.  Act  III  Sc.  4 

Be  wise! 

TANCRED:  I  have  found  memory  a  night 

Whereon  thy  beauty  blazes  like  a  star. 

And  yet  I  will  not  go. 

LILITH:  How  cold  thou  art  — 

Chill  as  the  agates  of  a  northern  beach! 

TANCRED:  Yet  do  I  find  the  beauty,  in  thy  face, 

Of  all  Time's  saddest  legends. 

LILITH:  I  have  dreamt 

Of  evening  and  a  couch  of  ecstasies, 

Whereon  Love  moans,  like  Music  on  the  rack. 

TANCRED:  Thou  art  too  beautiful!  The  sunset  seems 

A  splendor  shifting  from  thy  face.  .  .  .  O  witch, 

I  will  not  go! 

LILITH:        The  gods  within  our  loins 

Shall  wake  at  last.  I  dream  of  happiness, 

And  sweet,  unnumbered  subtleties  of  bliss — 

Of  eyes  grown  wet  with  joy  half-infinite! 

TANCRED:  Her  eyes  I  see.  They  tell  me  of  a  grief 

Whose  tears  are  yet  in  darkness. 

LILITH:  'Tis  but  fear 

That  seals  thy  heart,  and  thou  dost  waste  thy  life. 

Prattle  to  famished  lovers,  not  to  me! 

How  shalt  thou  cling  to  her  and  yet  be  glad? 

She  was  that  dragon  fatal  to  thy  quest. 

Her  lips  are  deadly,  and  her  arms,  though  white 

As  are  the  snows  thou  seekest,  bar  the  way 

To  those  eternal  peaks.  She  hath  set  rust 

43 


LILITH    Along  thy  sword,  and  dipt  thy  wings.  They  rot 
Ad:  III  Sc.  5    Upon  thy  shoulders.  Swift!  Be  brave,  O  Prince! 
We  shall  go  forth  on  steeds  of  malachite 
And  past  the  gulfs  of  sunset  join  the  war 
Of  all  the  dead  slain  greatly.  Thou  shalt  know 
The  captains  of  old  battles.  Thou  shalt  see 
The  face  of  Helen  on  another  tow'r, 
And  roam  that  Land  as  eagles  roam  the  dawn, 
Seeking  enchanted  perils,  and  high  dooms, 
And  Beauty  set  about  with  dreadful  swords. 
Heroes  shall  be  thy  comrades.  Winds  shall  cry, 
And  golden  galleys  bear  thee  down  the  path 
Of  sunset  on  great  waters.  At  the  last, 
My  lips  shall  wait  thee  in  a  mystic  place. 
Ah!  breast  to  breast  in  some  forsaken  land  — 
A  lonely  isle  in  seas  at  truce  with  Time! 
Come  forth  with  me! 

TANCRED:  I  will  go  forth,  and  hear 

The  song  of  Titans  and  the  voice  of  gods! 
Victorious  winds  shall  be  our  company, 
In  realms  unvisited  except  in  dream! 
A  star  shall  guide  us,  and  the  dream  be  true. 


Scene  5:  The  same  mountains,  a  week  afterward. 

Tancred  and  Lilith  stand  within  the  shadow 

of  a  wood.  It  is  late  morning. 

TANCRED:  Where  is  that  realm  I  seek?  Thou  didst  affirm 
That  I  should  know  its  perils;  but  we  roam 

44 


In  bleak  defiles  and  high  on  granite  flanks,  LILITH 

Achieving  desolations.  When  the  flesh  Act  III  Sc.  5 

Is  fain  of  thee,  my  frustrate  arms  but  close 

On  shadow.  Thou  art  witch-fire  and  a  lure  — 

Portion,  I  dread,  of  Hell's  black  pageantry. 

"Follow  with  me  the  sunset!"  thou  didst  cry; 

But  seven  sunsets  have  unbarred  their  gates, 

'Mid  fiery  wings,  and  lilies  of  pure  flame, 

And  shown  the  road  to  splendor;  yet  we  stray 

In  great,  sad  places  high  among  the  hills, 

Where  barren  suns  reveal  but  loneliness 

And  the  chill  moon  her  silvern  solitude. 

My  heart  grows  faint.  A  wind  is  in  mine  ears, 

Blown  from  cold  trumpets  of  the  stormy  North 

In  prophecy  and  terror.  Yea!  I  fear! 

Doubt  is  upon  me,  and  thy  gliding  glance 

Hath  treachery  in  promise.  Hast  thou  lied? 

LILITH  :  Have  patience,  thou  with  hunger  for  strange  things! 

Soon  shak  thou  drink  a  wine  wrung  from  the  grapes 

That  grow  by  light  of  nameless  moons  in  Hell. 

TANCRED:  What  meanest  thou? 

LILITH:  Listen,  O  Prince! 

The  song  of  maidens  is  heard. 

DIRGE 
O  lay  her  gently  where  the  lark  is  nesting 

And  winged  things  are  glad! 
Tears  end,  and  now  begins  the  time  of  resting 

For  her  whose  heart  was  sad. 


45 


LILITH  Give  roses,  but  a  fairer  bloom  is  taken. 

Aft  III  Sc.  5  Strew  lilies  —  she  was  one, 

Gone  in  her  silence  to  a  place  forsaken 
By  roses  and  the  sun. 

Deep  is  her  slumber  at  the  last  of  sorrow, 

Of  twilight  and  the  rain. 
Her  eyes  have  closed  forever  on  tomorrow 

And  on  tomorrow's  pain. 

Youths  and  maidens  pass  near  the  wood,  the  latter  sing- 
ing, the  former  bearing  the  body  of  Amara  upon  a  couch 
of  woven  branches,  heaped  with  flowers.  Tancred 
goes  forward  alone,  stopping  the 
funeral  cortege. 

T A N  c R E  D  :  Put  down  your  burden. 

The  youths  obey.  When  I  said  farewell, 

Alas!  the  desolation  in  those  eyes  — 
Eyes  heavy  with  solemnities  of  pain! 
Now  they  are  closed.  She  sleeps,  afar,  with  all 
Whose  love  had  end  in  silence.  Let  me  weep! 
Tears  are  the  blood  of  souls,  and  I  would  die! 
Yea,  being  dead,  shall  I  not  weep  in  Hell 
The  flaming  crystal  of  eternal  tears?  .  .  . 
Ah,  homing  dust!  what  was  my  gift  to  thee? 
Alas  my  heart,  guilty  as  Cain's  right  arm! 
She  has  the  lilies  of  a  farther  day, 
Who  was  their  mortal  sister.  Now  her  face 
Implores  not  memory,  but,  tyrannous, 
Shall  haunt  me,  for  the  star  is  not  more  white, 


Nor  alabaster  of  the  wintry  moon. .  .  .  LILITH 

Rest  thou,  but  I  shall  rest  not,  as  I  think  *AcT:  III  Sc.  5 

Of  all  my  heart  hath  cherished  and  betrayed. 

All  mine  she  was  awhile,  and  mine  were  love's 

Sweet  hesitancies  and  adoring  quest, 

In  evenings  early-starred.  Her  spirit's  lure 

And  body's  loveliness  were  all  for  me, 

Nor  dews  more  wholly  given  to  the  sun.  .  .  . 

The  flesh  I  saw,  but  that  diviner  thing, 

An  inner  iris  and  a  subtler  flame, 

I  saw  not.  Now  the  blinded  eyes  shall  pay, 

And  all  the  wild  farewell  at  music's  heart 

Be  mine  forever,  or  until  my  lips 

Inherit  hers  in  heaven.  Rest  thou,  my  Sweet, 

Tender  and  beautiful  and  somehow  tired! 

I  shall  not  rest,  whose  heart  must  ever  cry 

For  those  lost  days  of  wonder  and  delight, 

Once  all  my  own,  my  very  own,  now  gone, 

Now  melted  as  the  minarets  of  sleep. .  . . 

Thy  joy  was  for  a  little  while.  Sleep  thou, 

Hushed,  in  a  golden  gloom  of  Paradise! 

fo  the  youths  and  maidens. 

Pass  ye,  and  I  shall  pass  to  bitter  things. 
A  sinner  bids  farewell.  Renew  the  dirge, 
And  lay,  amid  the  happy  ones  who  sleep, 
The  dust  that  once  was  Beauty  and  her  dream. 

^he  funeral  cortege  goes  onward.  Tancred 
turns  alone  to  the  mountains. 

47 


LlLITH  Aft   IV 

Ad  IV  Sc.  i* 

Scene  i :  Twenty  years  later.  A  Cook,  a  Fool,  and 

Raoul,  a  Troubadour,  sit  on  the  northern 

battlements  of  a  great  castle. 

Around  are  snow-peaks. 

R  A  o  u  L  :  See  how  the  low  and  black-bound  sunset  glares 

Across  the  desolation. 

COOK:  They  are  crows 

That  fly  so  dark  upon  it. 

FOOL:  Troubadours, 

Bound  south  for  Italy. 

COOK:  Right  glad  am  I 

That  I  'm  no  singer! 

FOOL:  Merry  are  the  songs 

You  waken  from  the  kettle  and  the  spit. 

Play  on  forever  — or  until  I  die. 

R  A  o  u  L  :  The  long  red  wave  of  Autumn,  creeping  south, 

Burst  round  us  in  a  many-colored  foam 

That  died,  and  left  the  gray  shores  of  the  world 

More  lonely. 

FOOL:  We  are  here  — the  cook  and  I. 

R  A  o  u  L  :  What  know  you  of  my  thoughts,  poor  dolts  ? 

COOK:  I  kno 

What  they  will  be  within  an  hour  from  now. 

RAOUL:  What  then? 

COOK:  Of  eating,  when  you  smell  the  meat 

I  '11  fry. 

RAOUL:  The  devil  take  you  and  your  meat! 


COOK:  Till  then.  I  know  you  singer-folk:  you  eat          LILITH 

As  other  men,  but  somewhat  more.  Act  IV  Sc.  i 

R  A  o  u  L  — •  leaving  them:  Farewell, 

O  clods!  You  comprehend  me  not. 

COOK:  He 'Using 

His  nonsense  to  the  king  tonight,  and  come 

Drunk  from  the  banquet. 

FOOL:  I  shall  be  as  drunk 

And  twice  as  happy  on  the  morrow. 

COOK:  Fool, 

Speak  low,  and  tell  me  something  of  your  thoughts 

Concerning  this  new  leman  of  the  king. 

FOOL:!  think  she  is  a  witch. 

COOK:  'T  is  common  talk. 

Men  say  none  saw  her  enter:  guards  were  out, 

Portcullis  up,  and  moonlight  clear  and  strong. 

Then,  suddenly,  that  gliding  thing  is  here 

And  asking  for  the  king. 

FOOL:  I  like  it  not. 

Winter  is  almost  on  us,  and  the  throne 

Calls  him  from  out  the  west,  and  yet  he  lingers 

To  tame  that  supple  serpent. 

COOK:  It  is  strange! 

Woman  had  never  power  on  him  before 

Like  that.  Not  even  the  archbishop's  word 

Avails  with  him. 

FOOL:  But  think  you  Tancred's,  now, 

Would  count  against  her  witchery? 

COOK:  It  might! 

He  deals  in  magic. 

49 


LILITH    FOOL:  Say  you  so? 

AdIVSc.  i    COOK:  'T is  said; 

And  Father  Claude  would  have  us  'ware  of  him. 

FOOL:  He 's  jealous  of  his  learning.  Year  by  year 

Has  Tancred  pondered  in  his  narrow  cell. 

Seeking  some  wisdom  that  may  profit  men  — 

Such  common  men  as  we.  At  least  he  said 

As  much  to  me. 

COOK:  Let  him  be  burnt!  The  Church 

Knows  all,  and  tells  us  all.  Let  him  be  burnt! 

FOOL:  'T is  ill,  I  know,  to  mix  with  such  affairs. 

I  never  asked  him  for  advice. 

COOK:  Nor  I. 

Let  us  not  reach  too  high  nor  peer  too  deep, 

Lest  the  world's  mighty  menace  us.  Content 

Is  found  on  humble  ways.  I  cook  right  well, 

Have  deference  for  my  betters,  and  escape 

The  dooms  that  fall  upon  the  fair  and  strong. 

Life  is  a  trap. 

FOOL:  I  knew  it  long  ago. 

It  shall  not  snap  its  jaws  on  me.  I  say 

Make  others  laugh,  and  they  will  love  you  well. 

So  shall  you  prosper. 

COOK:  Yea,  we  both  delight 

Men's  midriffs.  So  the  cruel  arm  and  eye 

Shall  spare  us.  Stroke  the  lion! 

FOOL:  Look!  Here  comes 

Our  singer  back. 

Raoul  returns. 
5° 


RAOUL:  Saw  you  the  girl  Jehanne?  LILITH 

COOK:  She  passed  but  lately  with  a  man-at-arms,  Ad  IV  Sc.  i 

Lothaire  his  name. 

FOOL:  He  of  the  ruddy  nose. 

RAOUL:  Saint  Mark!  I  '11  make  a  ballad  on  that  beak! 

Exit. 

COOK:  Lothaire  will  make  a  sorry  dirge  of  his! 

FOOL:  Be  still!  Look  down!  Tancred  goes  by!  List  now! 

What  word  is  that  he  says  ? 

COOK:  He  does  but  say 

"Infinity!  Infinity!"  You  'd  think 

He  faced  the  rack. 

FOOL:  'T  is  ill  to  think  of  either. 

COOK:  My  brother  says  infinity  has  end 

In  a  stone  wall. 

FOOL:  Your  brother  is  a  fool! 

COOK:  He's  but  a  mason. 

FOOL:  Let  him  go  and  eat 

The  moss  upon  the  farther  side  that  wall! 

COOK:  That  were  strange  food  for  any  man. 

FOOL:  Then  let 

Him  build  with  other  mortar! 

COOK:  Night  is  on, 

And  I  must  hasten  to  my  underlings, 

Not  one  of  whom  will  ever  make  a  cook. 

FOOL:  Why  not  make  fools  of  them? 

COOK:  You  have  usurped 

All  follies,  and  there 's  not  a  silliness 

Left  for  mankind. 

51 


LILITH    FOOL  —  drawing  a  wooden  sword:  Have  at  you  for  a  pig! 

Aft  IV  Sc.  2 

Exeunt,  the  root  striking  the  Cook  with 

the  flat  of  the  sword. 


Scene  2:  Evening  of  the  next  day.  Lilith  and  King 

Gerbert  stand  in  a  room  high  up  in  the  castle 

and  look  out  across  the  night. 

GERBERT:  The  day  was  still.  The  sun  sank  bloodily, 

As  though  the  horned  crescent  gored  the  skies. 

Unrest  is  mine,  but  not  for  war.  Thy  face 

Dethrones  me. 

LILITH:  Honey  hath  a  bitter  dust. 

GERBERT:  Each  hour  makes  sweeter  all  that  is  of  thee. 

I  find  within  thy  slow,  disdainful  voice 

The  silver  of  a  moon  that  never  rose. 

Thine  eyes  are  emeralds  that  dream,  thy  mouth 

A  rose  some  god  hath  kissed  in  solitude! 

Deep  in  my  heart,  like  singing  heard  in  sleep, 

The  music  of  thy  beauty  faints  and  clings. 

Night  sent  thee  in  as  though  from  her  first  star. 

All  Paradise  hath  not  — 

LILITH:  Words,  words! 

GERBERT:  What  then? 

Have  I  not  trembled  at  thine  every  glance? 

Command! 

LILITH:     There's  one  whom  I  mistrust. 

GERBERT:  And  he  — 

LILITH:  Is  Tancred. 


GERBERT:  That  poor  sage!  LILITH 

LILITH:  He  is  not  poor    A&IVSc.  2 

In  wisdom. 

GERBERT:  Fear'st  thou  that? 

LILITH:  What  should  we  fear 

Above  it?  Without  wisdom  men  are  driven 

As  cattle.  Wisdom  is  the  quiet  moth 

That  frets  the  royal  arras.  Wisdom  is 

An  eagle,  spy 'on  all  that  crawls  below; 

And  wisdom  is  a  mole  to  undermine 

The  ramparts  of  old  empire.  It  is  flame 

Consuming  ancient  testaments  and  laws! 

Fear  it  like  flame! 

GERBERT:  But  what  can  Tancred  do 

T~*  e\ 

I  o  me? 

LILITH:  Thou  shalt  not  know  what  he  can  do, 
Except  thou  question  him.  Learn  what  he  thinks, 
And  find  if  he  be  enemy  or  no. 
GERBERT:  What,  put  him  to  the  question? 
LILITH:  In  due  time. 

First  have  him  for  thy  guest  at  banquet.  I 
Will  plan  the  feast.  Have  the  archbishop  there 
And  Foulques  the  chancellor. 
GERBERT:  I  think  it  ill 

To  stoop  to  prey  so  paltry.  That  poor  mouse 
Hath  had  his  refuge  seven  years  and  more 
In  this  my  refuge  from  the  Summer's  heat. 
He  asked  for  but  a  cell  and  crust.  His  feet 
Were  sore  from  many  roads  of  many  lands 
Where  he  had  wandered,  gaining  of  their  lore. 

53 


LILITH    Lo!  he  hath  been  in  Egypt,  and  Cathay; 
Act  IV  Sc.  2    But  shall  a  thing  like  that  harm  sovereignty? 
He  is  no  better  than  a  monk! 
LILITH:  Say  now: 

What  threatens  most  thy  rule  — the  force  of  foes 
Or  craft  of  them? 

GERBERT:  I  never  feared  their  might 

Of  armor.  Still,  I  think  thou  mak'st  a  fool 
Of  me  in  this  poor  matter  of  the  sage. 
He 's  harmless  as  a  gosling! 
LILITH:  Let  us  see 

What  road  his  knowledge  takes.  Three  nights  from  now 
Thou  shalt  be  wiser.  In  another  night 
He  may  be  wiser  still. 
GERBERT:  Enough  of  words! 

Do  as  it  pleases,  only  purge  the  feast 
Of  dullness,  for  I  weary  of  all  things 
But  thee. 

LILITH:  And  I  — I  weary  but  of  thee! 
GERBERT:  I  would  not  lose  thy  vision  for  an  hour, 
A  breath,  a  fall  of  eyelids.  One  alone 
Abides  mine  enemy,  for  eyes  at  last 
Faint  slowly  with  an  ever-growing  load; 
And  as  the  sea  shuts  round  a  sinking  pearl, 
So  must  I  lose  thy  loveliness  in  sleep. 
LILITH:  And  yet  I  sleep  beside  thee. 
GERBERT:  All  the  worse! 

I  lie  then  unaware  of  thee  — a  swine 
That  drowses  among  lilies.  Would  that  Sleep 
Were  man,  and  in  my  dungeons!  I  would  spread 

54 


A  sleepless  couch  for  him!  LILITH 

LILITH:  And  yet,  O  King!  Act  IV  Sc.  2 

The  day  shall  come  when  thou  shalt  pray  for  sleep. 
GERBERT:  Not  yet!  Not  yet!  Have  me  my  harpers  in! 
Harps,  and  a  grief  of  Music  gently  told! 

The  harpers  come  in.  One  sings. 

HARP-SONG 

What  is  it  in  thy  face 
That  holds  the  hidden  grace 

Of  vanished  years? 

Sorrows  in  long-forgotten  midnights  tombed. 
Beauty  disastrous,  tender,  and  foredoomed, 

For  which  the  seas  and  suns  are,  and  our  tears. 

O  turn  thou  swift  to  me, 
In  whose  great  eyes  I  see 

All  I  have  lost! 

Beyond  thy  silence  waits  thy  tenderness, 
Beyond  all  pain  thy  lingering  caress, 

The  only  rapture  worthy  of  the  cost. 

Say  nothing,  for  I  know! 
On  the  far  path  I  go 

Thy  love  shall  save. 

Hath  not  today  made  beautiful  the  Past  ? 
And  when  today  is  yesterday  at  last, 

Shall  not  we  two  remember  all  it  gave  ? 

55 


L i  L  i T H  Ah,  love!  this  hour,  too  fleet, 

Act IV  Sc.  3  Spreads  purple  for  thy  feet. 

The  shadows  close 

Above  the  sunset  ashes,  ruby-embered; 
And  that  old  beauty  lost  in  years  remembered 

Returns  in  stillness,  as  a  moon  that  grows. 


Scene  3 :  It  is  evening,  three  days  later.  King  Ger- 

bert,  Tancred,  the  Archbishop  Arnulph,  Foulques 

the  Chancellor,  Odo  the  Fool,  and  a  score 

of  lords  and  ladies  are  seated 

at  banquet. 

GERBERT:  What  think'st  thou,  Fool,  of  this  my  feast? 

ODO:  I  think 

Of  all  the  lowly  larders  that  went  bare 

To  make  it. 

GERBERT:  Then  indeed  thou  art  a  fool ! 

Who  ever  thought  such  thing  before?  And  thou, 

Tancred  — what  of  my  feast? 

TAN c RED:  O  King!  I  come 

Thy  guest. 

GERBERT:  Speak  freely.  Give  me  of  thy  lore  — 

It  shall  not  wound. 

TANCRED:  Odo  spake  truth. 'T is  said 

That  there  is  want  upon  the  plains  below. 

o  D  o :  I  meant  it  for  a  j est.  Shall  the  king  care  ? 

TANCRED:  They  starve  with  his  taxations. 

56 


GERBERT:  Let  them  starve,     LILITH 

For  they  are  worms,  and  I  am  one  whose  hands  Ad:  IV  Sc.  3 

Set  iron  to  the  granite  plinth  of  Time 

And  leave  a  name  deep-bitten.  I  have  fought, 

And  won,  and  will  enjoy.  'T  was  theirs  to  take, 

But  I  have  taken.  How  now,  Tancred? 

TANCRED:  I 

Have  dreamt  of  years  when  men  shall  not  be  wolves, 

But  brothers. 

LILITH:         Dreamt  indeed!  What  wilt  thou  be, 

Tiger  or  sheep?  For  thou  canst  not  be  both. 

TANCRED:  Is  it  a  dream  that  there  shall  come  a  day 

When  one  man's  joy  is  not  his  brother's  pain? 

LILITH:  It  is  the  very  ghost  of  dreams!  Wouldstthou 

Dance  on  Hell's  lid,  or  on  its  red-hot  floor? 

TANCRED:  I  'd  do  away  with  Hell. 

LILITH:  This  earth  is  Hell 

Today,  and  dungeon  to  an  iron  race. 

How  deeply  I  admire  these  men!  Their  hearts 

Let  them  be  merry  while  the  torment  clings 

To  other  hearts.  Why,  in  the  crypts  tonight 

They  make  an  end  of  Hunald  for  his  crime 

Against  the  king's  red  deer.  He 's  flayed  alive 

Who  flayed  the  stag  when  it  was  dead.  And  we 

Can  feast  and  laugh  — women  and  men! 

GERBERT:  More  wine! 

And  let  them  hold  my  deer  in  reverence! 

LILITH:  And  art  thou  j oy ous,  Tancred ?  Hunald  writhes 

With  skinless  limbs  —  but  thou  dost  feast! 

TANCRED:  I  know! 

57 


LILITH    Alas!  the  sorrows  of  my  fellow-men! 
Act  IV  Sc.  3    Their  tears  are  bitter  in  my  drink!  My  bread 
Is  tasteless  for  their  torment! 
LILITH:  'Tis  no  fault 

Of  thine.  Thou  didst  not  build  the  wretched  world. 
Be  happy!  Lay  thy  burden  on  thy  God! 
TANCRED:  There  is  no  happiness  in  all  this  world 
For  him  who  thinks. 

A  R  N  u  L  p  H  :  What  right  hast  thou  to  think  ? 

She  hath  said  truth  in  bidding  thee  to  lay 
Thy  burden  on  the  Lord. 
TANCRED:  Leave  God  to  God. 

Thou  shalt  not  fathom  if  He  be  at  all. 
To  skies  unanswering  and  heavens  austere 
The  faith  of  man  pours  yet  its  ancient  cry, 
He  to  the  Voiceless  raising  still  his  voice. 
Let  fonder  souls  smile  on  the  waiting  Night  — 
Fed  with  the  lie  of  immortality; 
But  I  smile  not. 

ARNULPH:        Thou  nearest,  Gerbert? 
GERBERT:  I 

Have  heard,  and  though  not  like  those  cricket  souls 
That  chirrup  cheerfully  concerning  God, 
Yet  faith  is  mine  to  know  Him  good.  This  sage 
Rots  in  a  cell,  and  does  not  know  mankind, 
Much  less  its  Maker.  He  hath  held  no  sword. 
TANCRED:  I  fight  with  lions  that  ye  know  not  of. 
Ye  have  not  trod  my  roads,  nor  known  my  thirst 
And  my  despairs,  nor  heard  my  winds  of  night 
Moan  in  the  porches  of  infinity. 


We  speak  not  the  same  tongue.  LILITH 

FOULQUES:  If  thou  alone  Ad  IV  80.3 

Hast  such  a  language,  speak  it  to  thyself, 

Nor  taint  our  liegemen  with  thy  leprosies 

Of  thought!  Be  gentle  to  thyself.  Accept 

Our  ancient  things,  and  so,  without  mishap, 

Find  peace  and  joy. 

TANCRED:  I  find  them  otherwise  — 

Peace  but  in  war  against  the  beast  of  Self, 

And  joy  but  in  the  joy  one  gives  mankind. 

It  is  thine  ancient  things  that  ail  —  cold  laws 

And  customs  dead  and  hollow  as  a  skull. 

FOULQUES:  The  sage  is  mad!  Where  got  he  such  designs 

On  God  and  man? 

LILITH:  It  all  was  dreamed  before, 

Long  since  and  far  away,  by  men  now  dust. 

He  hath  dug  up  their  follies. 

A  R  N  u  L  P  H  :  Let  him  know 

The  rack!  Much  wisdom 's  there. 

TANCRED:  Not  such  as  thine! 

Better  the  truth  with  pain,  than  joy  with  lies. 

A  dream  exalts  me. 

LILITH:  Yea,  but  being  dead 

Thou  shalt  not  even  dream! 

TANCRED:  The  dream  will  live 

And  pass,  to  touch  the  hearts  of  other  men 

With  morning,  and  the  glory  of  new  light, 

Somehow,  somewhere,  in  years  less  blind  than  these. 

GERBERT:  This  wrangling  wearies  me,  so  make  an  end! 

ARNULPH:A  little  while,  O  King!  The  offended  Church 

59 


L i  L  i T H    Hath  interest  here. 

AdtlVSc.  3    GERBERT:  I  cannot  see  his  harm. 

He  makes  a  better  fool  than  Odo  there. 
Let  him  be  Fool!  He  '11  be  fat  merriment, 
With  Odo  for  his  ape. 
LILITH:  Tonight,  O  King, 

The  fool  goes  not  in  motley.  Be  thou  sure 
That  this  man's  word,  if  loosened  on  the  world, 
Will  eat  like  acid  all  thy  pomp  and  power. 
Is  it  not  true,  O  Arnulph? 
ARNULPH:  It  is  true. 

Such  thoughts  must  die,  if  Church  and  Throne  would  live. 
TANCRED:  I  know  that  I  must  die.  There  is  no  friend 
To  plead  for  me.  Yet  one  shall  be  my  friend  — 
Kind  Death,  who  answers  all  by  ending  all. 
ARNULPH:  More  blasphemy!  Nay,  thou  shalt  live  in  Hell ! 
TANCRED:  I  am  too  near  the  silence  not  to  hope 
It  is  eternal.  There  is  one  who  sees 
Deeper  than  thou.    « 

ARNULPH:  Thou  sayest  truth  at  last! 

He  rules  in  Rome. 

TANCRED:  There  stands  a  mightier  one  — 

Reason,  by  whom  the  gods  and  worlds  are  weighed! 
Reason,  the  queen  to  be!  Her  scything  light 
Is  on  thine  ancient  gardens. 
FOULQUES:  On  the  rack 

Thou  shalt  think  otherwise. 
TANCRED:  Her  destined  hand 

Already  lifts.  Its  shadow  sets  in  dusk 
The  crosiers  and  the  crowns. 

60 


GERBERT:  The  man  is  mad!  LILITH 

He  '11  make  a  merry  fool.  Act IV  Sc.  3 

LILITH:  He  is  not  mad. 

He  but  foretells,  and  is  not  of  thy  kind, 
O  Foulques!  enswathed  in  optimistic  fat. 
Thy  docile  sages  and  thy  muzzled  seers 
Are  not  his  brothers  of  the  soul. 
TANCRED:  Not  such! 

For  they  offend  against  the  mind  of  man  — 
Dwellers  in  darkness,  beaters  of  the  breast! 
King!  there  is  royal  blood  within  these  veins, 
For  I  have  walked  with  masters,  men  whose  words, 
Like  windows  opening  on  infinity, 
Show  night,  but  not  mirage. 

GERBERT:  More  wine!  More  wine! 

Have  at  him,  Foulques  and  Arnulph!  Said  I  not 
He'd  make  a  jolly  fool? 
ARNULPH:  The  matter  stands 

Not  thus.  The  Church  demands  him. 
FOULQUES:  He  must  die! 

He  is  stained  deeper  with  black  heresy 
Than  is  thy  robe  with  purple.  Infamies 
Of  pain  await  him. 

LILITH:  He  must  die,  O  King! 

His  hidden  sneer  is  on  thee,  and  derides 
The  life-laugh  in  thy  throat. 
TANCRED:  I  do  not  sneer 

At  any  man,  and  least  of  all  at  him 
Whose  bread  I  long  have  eaten.  I  but  say 
The  truth  is  thus,  not  otherwise.  Must  I 

61 


L  i  L  i  T  H    Forego  the  truth  for  gratitude  ? 
AdtlVSc.  3    ARNULPH:  Thou  seest, 

Gerbert!  The  man  is  stuffed  with  lying  pride  — 
A  snarling  dog  upon  thy  hearth! 
FOULQUES:  The  rack 

For  him! 

GERBERT:  Saint  Remi!  Came  I  to  a  feast, 
Or  a  monks'  quarrel?  Take  him!  Though  I  still 
Am  sure  he  'd  make  a  jolly  fool. 
LILITH:  He'll  find 

What  too  much  wisdom  ends  in. 
GERBERT:  At  the  worst, 

I  'd  cast  him  forth  tonight. 
FOULQUES:  What!  Loosen  him 

Upon  the  world  ?  A  pretty  time  we  'd  have, 
Tracking  his  heresies! 

ARNULPH:  We  '11  end  them  here. 

Yet,  Tancred,  we  will  grant  thee  time  for  thought 
Concerning  all  thy  blasphemies.  Three  days 
Foodless,  within  the  crypts,  may  bless  with  light 
Thy  pagan  darkness. 

TANCRED:  In  Time's  torture  vaults 

Many  abide,  and  I  have  stood  with  them, 
And  wondered.  Idly  shalt  thou  prison  me 
Whose  mind  hath  found  horizons  reaching  not 
On  sea  or  land.  Far  wearier  have  I  been, 
In  days  that  had  no  meaning  and  no  joy; 
Yet  sought  I  truth  —  a  wanderer,  a  moth 
Of  many  candles.  I  have  sinned  indeed  — 
Have  done  so  little  right,  and  so  much  wrong! 

62 


But  yet  a  star  hath  beaconed.  Still  I  fare,  LILITH 

A  searcher  among  shadows,  frail  as  they  —  Act  IV  Sc.  3 

I  to  whom  choirs  of  darkened  suns  might  sing: 

"Child  of  the  Night,  we  also  are  a  dream!" 

But  dream  or  no,  I  seek.  Ah!  human  heart! 

So  blind!  So  wise!  So  base!  So  beautiful! 

How  soon  wilt  thou  be  one  with  all  men's  hearts? 

What  worth  to  the  Adventure  —  yea,  what  worth, 

Except  it  end  in  love?  And  now  mine  eyes, 

Beholding  love  beyond  these  tears  of  Time, 

Are  — 

GERBERT:  Is  this  a  feast,  or  sermon?  Drag  him  out! 

Two  men-at-arms  conduct  Tancredfrom 
the  banquet-hall. 

A  R  N  u  L  P  H  :  Thou  hast  done  wisely. 

GERBERT:  I  at  least  have  stopped 

A  mouth  that  knew  not  weariness. 

FOULQUES:  A  mouth 

That  soon  shall  make  strange  sounds. 

A  R  N  u  L  p  H  :  Not  joyful  ones. 

GERBERT:  I '11  have  none  other.  Bid  the  harps  begin 

And  Raoul  sing.  More  wine!  'T  is  long  ere  day, 

And  there  are  many  things  I  would  forget. 

RAOUUS  SONG 

The  birds  have  told  their  bliss, 
And  all  too  soon  that  ebbing  music  ends 
On  purple  reach  of  streams  where  Twilight  bends 

The  brow  to  Evening's  kiss. 

63 


LILITH  Turn  thou  as  mute  to  mine! 

Act  IV  Sc.  4        For  on  the  white  beginnings  of  thy  breast 
My  brow  and  lips,  idolatrous,  would  rest 
And  know  the  hour  divine. 

Now  end  the  barren  years. 
The  lucid  evening  star,  a  drop  of  dew 
Hidden  till  sunset's  rose  had  burned  anew, 

Shines  also  in  thy  tears. 

Let  not  thy  love  delay, 
Nor  silence  hold  our  destinies  apart; 
For  what  thy  beauty  says  unto  my  heart 

My  heart  can  never  say. 


Scene  4:  Midnight,  two  days  afterward.  Tancred 

stands  in  a  locked  room  of  a  tower  of  the 

castle,  and  looks  from  a  great 

window  on  the  stars. 

TANCRED:  O  night,  mysterious  and  terrible! 
Thou  womb  of  light!  Thou  charnel-house  of  suns! 
I  said,  "The  stars  shall  soothe  before  I  sleep." 
I  gaze,  and  I  am  sleepless,  on  my  soul 
The  threefold  darkness  of  night,  life,  and  pain. 
He  said  to  me,  that  sage  of  India, 
Confirmed  in  all  the  doctrines  of  despair, 
"The  stars  are  suns,  with  each  its  vassal  world, 


And  stars  and  stars  forever!"  Can  it  be  LILITH 

Those  worlds  are  even  as  this  world,  blind  with  hate,     Act  IV  Sc.  4 

With  self  enthroned,  hungers  unsatisfied, 

And  Nature  hiding  horrors  at  her  breast? 

This  life  of  mine  — how  hath  it  all  fled  by, 

Gone  like  the  smoke  of  sacked  and  ashen  Troy! 

Peace  to  thine  ashes,  Love!  and  peace  to  thee, 

Thou  beauty  long-departed  that  I  sought  — 

How  vainly!  Let  the  monstrous  pageant  pass 

With  all  its  harlot  music!  I  have  been 

Part  of  its  pomp  and  folly. .  .  .  Still  ye  burn, 

Old  sores,  old  shames,  pld  failures,  old  despairs  — 

The  heart's  deep  wounds,  slow-healing,  if  at  all. 

Yea!  I  have  known  this  world,  and  now  mine  eyes 

Gaze  on  infinity's  abyss,  and  fail.  .  . . 

Time,  as  of  old  mysterious  and  dread, 

Who  claspest  all  things  as  the  winds  a  world  — 

Where  man  and  all  his  voices  find  an  end, 

Turning  from  thee  as  children  from  a  storm 

Unto  the  calm  and  shelter  of  a  roof— 

Time,  I  am  nearly  done  with  thee.  I  feel 

A  sense  of  man's  high  homelessness.  I  find 

No  rest  in  thee,  nor  peace.  I  pause  to  hear, 

Alone,  the  murmur  of  the  seas  that  break 

On  shores  of  worlds  untrodden  yet  by  man. 

And  yet  I  know  it  is  a  dream.  A  breath, 

And  ever  night  shall  be,  and  ever  stars, 

But  I  no  more  forever.  What  am  I, 

This  heart  by  Time  tormented  and  betrayed, 

And  girt  by  many  mysteries  ?  This  mote 

65 


LILITH    Impinged  on  by  infinities?  This  vast 
Act  IV  Sc.  4    Where  meet  the  dark  abysses,  to  become 
A  new  abyss,  that  hungers  to  be  filled? 
I  do  not  know.  To  one  the  music  comes, 
To  one  the  meaning.  But  this  heart  is  tired.  .  . . 
Close,  close,  O  flower  of  consciousness,  thy  breast! 
I  would  forget  I  am  and  I  have  been.  .  .  . 
I  feel  the  shadows  closing  with  my  soul.  .  .  . 
O  lapse  of  worlds  on  the  eternal  void! 
Globed  by  the  certain  Darkness,  still  I  wait, 
Yesterday's  dust,  fire  of  today,  tomorrow's  night! 

Lilith  stands  suddenly  beside  him. 

White  witch!  What  plannest  thou? 
LILITH:  Thy  happiness. 

TANCRED:  Lies,  as  of  old! 

LILITH:  I  swear  I  am  thy  friend! 

Come,  make  thy  peace  with  Arnulph!  There  is  time. 
Another  day  remains.  The  captain  stars 
Cross,  and  demand  thy  doom,  but  I  can  save. 
Renounce  thy  folly!  Let  me  say  to  Foulques 
That  thou  dost  love  the  law,  to  Arnulph  thou 
Dost  love  the  Church. 
TANCRED:  I  cannot.  How  shall  I 

Be  traitor  to  myself? 
LILITH:  Remember  thee 

That  blood  of  father,  friend  and  wife  is  red 
Upon  thy  hands! 

TANCRED:  What  tears  are  mine!  They  leave 

No  stain  but  on  the  soul,  and  there  they  rust 

66 


Like  to  that  blood.  I  know  that  I  have  sinned,  LILITH 

And  blackly.  Still,  my  soul  hath  stood  for  truth,  Act IV  Sc.  4 

And  loving  truth,  there  truly  have  I  loved 

Father  and  friend  and  wife. 

LILITH:  Thy  truth!  Behold! 

'The  walls  that  surround  'Tancred  seem  to  melt  away^ 
leaving  him  standing  unsupported  in  space^ 

with  Lilith  at  his  side. 

\ 
Look  down,  O  Tancred!  What  beholdest  thou? 

TANCRED:  Nothingness. .  .  .  Nay  — I  see  a  drop  of  blood, 

Far  down,  yet  visible.  Beside  it  now 

A  drop  of  dew  appears,  touched  by  a  sun, 

Unseen,  to  many  hues.  And  now  from  each 

Rise  vapors,  ever  denser  and  more  bright. 

They  soar,  they  robe  us  in  magnificence. 

Great  chambers  open  in  the  splendor,  rooms 

Of  changing  opalescence.  Phantom  shapes 

Are  dwellers  there,  that  woo  and  wed  and  war, 

Mingling  in  shadow. 

LILITH:  Gaze  thou  fixedly 

On  any  form. 

TANCRED:      Lo!  as  I  gaze  it  melts, 

And  that  mirage  bears  no  close  scrutiny. 

LILITH:  All  is  illusion,  born  of  those  twin  drops 

Alone  found  real.  See!  The  mists  subside, 

Thou  gazing  in  relentlessness,  and  now 

That  orb  of  Pain  glows  redly,  and  the  orb 

Of  Pleasure  gleams  in  subtle  iris-flame. 

Of  those  thy  dreams  are  born,  and  every  thought 


LILITH    Of  good  or  evil.  There  is  naught  beside. 
Act  IV  Sc.  4    Tancred,  thou  hast  beheld  thy  soul. 

TANCRED:  What  then? 

LILITH:  And  shalt  thou,  so  beholding,  prate  of  "Truth"? 

There  is  no  truth.  What  seems  so  is  the  child 

Of  that  illusion.  Miserable  life! 

A  babbling  and  a  babbling  — then  the  grave! 

A  cry  to  which  no  song  of  any  star 

Returns  an  answer!  Yet  the  thing  abides, 

And  Pain  is  well  to  shrink  from.  Dost  thou  know 

What  waits  thee  in  the  crypts  tomorrow  night? 

TANCRED:  Death. 

LILITH:  Not  at  first.  They  '11  scourge  thy 

body  raw, 

Then  dabble  it  with  sharpest  brine.  The  rack 
Shall  be  thy  couch  for  agonizing  hours, 
And  what  is  left  shall  die  on  bedded  coals. 
TANCRED:  I  will  die  truthful. 

LILITH:  Wilt  thou  bear  the  rack 

For  an  illusion?  'Tis  reality, 
That  pain,  though  meaningless  as  life  itself. 
TANCRED:  Such  may  be  true;  but  there  is  that  in  me 
Which  must  abhor  abasement,  finding  fire 
A  sweeter  thing  than  shame.  I  am  a  man, 
And  will  not  bow  to  them,  truth  or  no  truth. 
LILITH:  And  all  for  what?  A  year,  and  that  proud  neck 
Shall  feed  the  nettle.  Shame  or  honor,  both 
Are  but  illusion. 

TANCRED:          Then,  to  think  at  all 
Is  but  illusion.  Shall  I  be  a  slug 

68 


To  please  thee?  Nay!  I  wear  full  panoply  LILITH 

Of  manship,  and  shall  serve  the  human  dream,  Act  IV  Sc.  4 

Undoubting.  Canst  thou  say  what  Life  shall  be, 

From  womb  to  worm  ?  Thou  canst  not,  nor  shalt  know 

The  glory  and  the  terror  of  a  world 

From  birth  to  death. 

LILITH:  Lookup! 

Tattered  beholds  the  roof  above  him  melt 
away,  showing  the  night  sky. 

Behold  the  Abyss! 

The  suns  go  blind  and  lost.  Thy  life  abides 
An  instant  of  the  pageant.  God  is  not, 
Nor  devil,  man  being  both  unto  himself. 
Be  wise,  and  say,  "Life  shall  not  cozen  me!" 
Be  strong,  and  take  whatever  thing  thou  wilt! 
Defer  to  Arnulph.  In  a  silken  sleeve 
Thou  then  canst  laugh  — nay,  teach  thy  heresies 
To  lords  and  not  to  serfs. 
T  A  N  c  R  E  D  :  Eternal  night! 

The  heaven  of  stars  is  dreadful  o'er  my  head, 
Where  worlds  go  forth  forever— and  to  what? 
To  know  that  there  were  Justice  there! 
LILITH:  The  sea 

That  Life  is  bubble  of  knows  not  a  Why 
Nor  Whence  nor  Whither.  "Justice!"  Once  again 
Illusion,  and  the  relative!  The  word 
Means  much  to  thee,  but  nothing  to  the  Abyss. 
TANCRED:  It  needs  mean  nothing  save  to  man.  Mine  eyes 
Turn  from  those  cold  frontiers  and  gaze  within. 


LILITH    I  see  my  rapture  and  my  grief,  and  know 
Act IV  Sc.  4    That  they  suffice  me.  Life,  accept  this  heart, 
Still  hungry  for  illusion  and  for  love! 
LILITH:  For  love  ?  Come  with  me  to  that  gentler  world 
Where  Twilight,  in  the  Islands  of  the  Blest, 
Hath  lost  her  purples  on  the  jewelled  shore. 
Music  is  there,  and  thou  shalt  know  my  kiss. 
Couched  on  the  broken  rose  and  lulled  by  lutes, 
Thou  shalt  forget  the  world's  unending  pain, 
And  all  dismays  Time  hath  in  store  for  man. 
T  AN  c  RED:  That  love  I  will  not  dream  of,  nor  that  peace! 
Witch,  I  am  human,  and  will  play  my  part 
As  man,  not  god  nor  phantom.  I  accept 
The  wine  of  this  illusion,  and  am  glad. 
I  drink  its  very  lees  of  pain  and  death  — 
Pain,  and  I  comprehend  my  brother's  pain, 
And  death,  that  so  I  know  the  worth  of  life. 
LILITH:  Still  fain  of  the  unsatisfying  years! 
Poor  mortal!  But  a  little  time  remains, 
Even  for  that  Illusion! 
TANCRED:  I  have  loved 

And  greatly  sinned.  I  have  been  blind  indeed. 
But  my  humanity  I  put  not  by, 
Nor  turn  from  that  great  Army  which,  betrayed 
By  many  captains  and  by  many  years, 
Goes  up  against  the  Darkness.  I  am  man 
And  portion  of  my  brothers.  I  will  stand 
For  what  I  call  the  truth,  and  trust  that  Love 
Some  day  shall  clasp  the  world.  To  hold  thy  dream 
Is  death,  and  treason,  and  the  Dark  Mirage. 

70 


Thou  too  art  of  illusion,  witch!  LILITH 

LILITH:  Lookup!  Act  IV  Sc.  4 

Behold  again  the  heavens!  What  hope  hath  earth? 

Bartered  looks  up.  'The  sky  has  become  overcast. 

TANCRED:  The  night  is  very  dark.  No  star!  No  star! 

Now  nearer  to  the  sky-line  burns  mine  own, 

Irrevocable,  lonely,  and  forlorn. 

The  clouds  that  were  the  sunset  come  to  weep, 

Assenting  to  some  sorrow  of  the  night. 

LILITH:  As  thou  dost  pass,  so  shall  the  race,  nor  leave 

A  watcher  at  the  frozen  tomb,  nor  voice 

To  utter  to  the  vast  and  voiceless  skies 

The  words:  "Man  was.  He  suffered.  He  is  not." 

TANCRED:  And  yet  at  last  we  conquer:  these  are  years 

That  know  the  seraph's  sword,  but  not  his  song. 

We  are  but  brutes,  yet  from  those  loins  shall  spring 

Masters  of  matter.  From  the  world's  huge  pain, 

I  know  its  coming  joy  shall  be  as  vast, 

When  the  great  Balance  swings,  and  stars  that  sank 

In  tears  return  in  song.  Have  not  I  known 

The  labor  and  the  midnight  of  the  roots, 

The  glory  and  the  fragrance  of  the  flow'r? 

Free  from  the  long  captivity  of  self, 

The  race  shall  work  as  one. 

LILITH:  Hug  then  thy  dream, 

Poor  fool!  I  am  no  dream,  who  offer  thee 

Rapture  and  peace  at  cost  of  sterile  pride. 

Dream  till  the  mighty  Darkness  come  and  lay 

Destruction  on  thy  soul!  But  I  have  seen 

71 


LILITH    The  moth  and  rust  that  wait  their  Master's  word, 
Act  IV  Sc.  4    And  know  thou  babblest.  Babble  ye,  O  men, 
Till  on  the  conflicts  of  accursed  life 
Falls  the  impartial  judgment  of  the  Cold! 
TANCRED:  Nay,  thou  dost  pander  unto  Nothingness, 
And  on  thy  tongue  is  death!  We  moths  that  use 
The  stars  for  candles  are  more  wise  than  thou, 
Finding  the  light  at  least,  although  it  slay. 
And  though  the  Last  Wind  drive  along  the  world 
The  foam  of  granite  and  the  dust  of  seas, 
The  dust  in  Man  hath  lived  and  loved. 
LILITH:  And  cried 

In  agony!  Ah,  miserable  Life, 
Lured  by  a  hundred  lusts  and  dogged  by  sad 
Satiety!  Blind  pilgrim  of  the  years, 
With  Pain  for  shadow!  Turn  thee  from  the  sun, 
And  rest!  How  very  quickly  art  thou  gone, 
Smoke  of  the  moth's  burnt  wing! 
TANCRED:  Yet  was  it  wing, 

And  better  that  than  nothing. 
LILITH:  So  thou  takest 

The  gods'  half-loaf,  refusing  that  my  laugh 
May  touch  to  mist  thy  wan  philosophies: 
It  may  be  thou  shalt  eat  tomorrow  night 
Another  bread. 

TANCRED:         Men  walk  in  darkness  now, 
Part  of  the  hate  and  horror  of  the  world; 
But  clouds  hide  not  forevermore  the  stars, 
Nor  night  the  dawn.  The  quietudes  of  Law 
Swing  up  the  sun  at  last.  I  see  far  off 

72 


The  dust  of  Evil's  altar  crumbling  down  L  i  L  i  T  H 

Before  the  morning,  and  the  song  of  Man  Act  IV  Sc.  5 

Answers  the  singing  of  the  stars. 

LILITH:  Poor  fool, 

The  dupe  of  dreams!  So  soon  to  take  thy  part 

In  nothingness,  one  with  that  multitude 

To  whom  the  eternal  night  hath  said,  "I  am!" 

Farewell! 

TANCRED:  Farewell,  O  witch!  I  die  a  man. 


Scene  5:  Midnight  of  the  next  day.  The  trouba- 
dour Raoul  and  the  girl  Jehanne  stand  before 
a  fountain  near  the  southern  wall  of  the 
castle ',  in  a  small  garden-close. 

RAOUL:  How  brave  of  thee  to  come!  I  hardly  dared 

To  think  thou  wouldst. 

JEHANNE:  I  never  should  have  come: 

This  greenery  is  not  for  you  and  me  — 

The  king  alone  may  walk  it. 

RAOUL:  He'll  not  come 

Tonight,  I  know. 

JEHANNE:  And  yet  the  dark  is  warm. 

Old  Winter,  like  one  begging  at  the  gate, 

Moaned  once,  and  went  away.  But  he  '11  return. 

RAOUL:  Tonight  'tis  summer-soft.  No  wind's  a- wing. 

JEHANNE:  Art  very  sure  the  king  will  stay  within  ? 

I  fear  him. 

73 


LILITH    RAOUL:      Peace!  He  sent  for  me  and  said: 
Act  IV  Sc.  5    "Grant  the  drug  music  to  my  baffled  soul, 

For  I  would  dream  of  some  great  bitter  love, 
Insatiate."  Whereat  the  white  witch  said: 
"Thou  shalt  come  with  me  to  the  crypts  tonight 
And  hear  another  music." 
JEHANNE:  What  was  meant? 

RAOUL:  Trouble  thee  not  thy  heart!  Come  closer.  Cast 
Thine  arms  around  me  thus.  Ah,  beautiful! 
I  love  thee! 

JEHANNE:  Thou  hast  said  so  to  each  maid 
In  the  great  city. 

RAOUL:  That  may  be.  This  time 

I  mean  the  words.  For  beautiful  thou  art, 
And  Spring  is  in  the  garden  of  thy  face. 
I  would  I  dared  to  sing  to  thee  this  hour 
And  tell  in  music  half  thy  marvel.  Dear, 
Dawn-eyed  and  exquisite,  the  blind,  sweet  flow'rs 
Are  coarser  than  thy  breast,  and  in  thy  voice 
Are  distant  bells  of  evening,  faintly  tolled, 
And  echo  of  the  mourning  harp.  Thy  hair 
Is  gold  of  many  an  ancient  moon,  and  hath 
Their  sorcery.  I  find  therein  the  ghost 
Of  fragrance  of  some  unaccepted  rose 
That  died  in  Paradise.  All  things  that  seem 
Most  sadly  beautiful  are  met  in  thee; 
Yet  dost  thou  promise  all  of  happiness, 
All  wonderments  of  vision  and  of  sound, 
Drifting  deliciously  against  the  heart. 
JEHANNE:  How  silly  dost  thou  speak!  How  very  like 

74 


A  troubadour!  LILITH 

RAOUL:  Hast  thou  no  word  of  love  A6t  IV  Sc.  5 

For  me? 

JEHANNE:  Ah!  thou  art  like  a  tiger-cat, 

So  swiftly  didst  thou  leap  upon  Lothaire 

And  crush  him  down!  Thou  art  my  tiger-cat. 

RAOUL:  Call  me  thy  love! 

JEHANNE:  Well,  then,  thou  art  my  love. 

RAOUL:  Ah,  madlier,  madlier!  Kiss  me  swift!  My  lips, 

Thieves  of  delight,  are  famished  for  thine  own! 

They  kiss. 

JEHANNE:  Thy  lips  are  cold. 

RAOUL:  Because  my  love  is  hot. 

Kiss  me  again,  O  lovely  one!  The  night 

Is  shrine  for  us. 

A  low  groan  is  heard. 

JEHANNE:          Ah!  what  was  that,  dear  heart  ? 
RAOUL:  I  know  not,  and  I  care  not.  Love,  thy  lips! 

The  groan  is  heard  again. 

JEHANNE:  Nay  —  let  me  go! 

RAOUL:  'T  is  nothing.  Stay  thou  here! 

JEHANNE:  'T is  terrible  —  a  soul's  black  agony 

Distilled  in  sound!  I  will  not  stay! 

RAOUL:  Come,  then, 

And  we  '11  discover  what  it  is.  Behold  — 

A  window  opens  in  the  wall,  low  down, 

Too  little  to  be  barred.  It  lets  the  air 

75 


LILITH    Into  the  crypts. 
Ad  IV  Sc.  5 


'The  groan  is  heard  again.  'They  kneel  and  listen. 

Said  I  not  so?  The  sound 

Comes  from  below.  Listen!  And  there's  a  laugh  — 
'T  was  the  king's  witch!  I  know  now:  Odo  said 
That  Tancred  was  to  die  tonight.  'Tis  he 
Who  groans. 

j E H  A N  N E  :      That  poor  old  man! 
RAOUL:  He  seems  not  old. 

And  yet  he  works  in  magic. 
JEHANNE:  Why  do  men 

Concern  themselves  with  magic  or  its  cure, 
When  love  awaits  ? 

RAOUL:  With  wisdom,  or  red  war? 

All 's  vain  but  love  and  lovers. 

The  groan  is  heard  again. 

JEHANNE:  Let  us  go! 

I  cannot  bear  the  sound. 

RAOUL:  But  go  not  far! 

They  walk  to  the  other  end  of  the  garden-close. 

See,  here  the  sun  was  kindest,  and  the  grass 
Lies  thick  and  soft.  So  bed  thee,  tender  one! 

The  dew?  Well,  here 's  my  cloak Now,  Sweet, 

thine  arms, 

Thy  face  uplifted,  and  thy  small  red  mouth 
To  start  the  feast! 
JEHANNE:  Ah!  Raoul!  Raoul! 

76 


RAOUL:  Love!  LILITH 

JEHANNE:  Ah!  Raoul!  Raoul!  Ad  IV  Sc.  5 

'The  groan  is  heard  again. 

Christ!  It  is  too  much! 
Let  us  go  hence!  We  '11  meet  another  night. 
RAOUL:  I  will  not  have  it  so!  See,  here's  a  rose 
That  hangs  above,  the  Autumn's  white  farewell. 
I  '11  stuff  thine  ears  with  petals. 

He  does  so. 

JEHANNE:  Gently,  now! 

Enough  — thou  hurtest! 

'The  groan  is  heard  again. 

RAOUL:  Hearestthou? 

JEHANNE:  More  loud: 

Thou  whisperest. 

RAOUL:  I  asked  if  thou  didst  hear 

The  sound. 

JEHANNE:  I  hear  no  sound.  I  barely  hear 

Thy  voice. 

RAOUL:      Then,  all  is  well.  Groan  on,  thou  pest! 

Jehanne,  my  beautiful,  thy  lips  again! 

O  heart  of  Love,  thou  center  of  the  sun! 

JEHANNE:  Ah,  Love! 

RAOUL:  Delight!  Delight! 

JEHANNE:  Ah,  Love!  Ah,  Love! 


FINIS 


OF   THIS    BOOK 

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